A Man Called Ghost
by RinkRat
Summary: [Alternate season 9 timeline COMPLETED] Harm never returned to JAG, instead he became an antiterrorist specialist at the CIA
1. Forward

A Man Called Ghost

Forward

This story takes place in an alternate timeline for season 9. I am working with the premise that Harm accepted the offer of Field Agent status in Secret Agent Man. Upon accepting the offer Harm is sent to Field Agent Training at the Farm. Upon successful completion of his training Harm is sent for special warfare training at the SEAL training facility. After this he is sent for anti-terrorism training with the SAS in England. Since then Harm has made a name for himself in the CIA as a top notch asset in combating the wave of terrorism.

The story opens one year after returning from Paraguay. I'm not too sure where this story is going to go, but for all the shippers out there, rest assured that getting Harm and Mac together is one of the goals of this story.

For the purposes of this story Harm was obviously never fired from the CIA, he avoided being captured on tape when he landed the C130 on the Henry. This means Harm never took the crop dusting job, and never took custody of Mattie.

I'm also going to apologize for taking some liberties with the character of Harm. I'm working on the assumption that his year away from JAG in the service of the CIA has changed him to a great degree. If you don't like reading stories that explore the darker side of the characters of JAG, then you might wish to stop here. To a lesser degree Harm's absence has also affected those closest to him, Mac, Bud, Harriet and AJ have also changed.

At the beginning the rate of posts for this story will be slow as it will be a secondary story to my 'You Can't Live in the Past' series, but upon completion of that series this will become my primary work.

**Rated R for language, adult situations and other various naughty naughty things I may throw in.**


	2. Chapter 1

A/N I don't know what Beth's girlfriend's name is, so I'm making it Allison.  
A/N 2: This is a repost of chapter 1. I was reading over it again and caught a couple small errors I missed in the original editing.

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 1_

Slowly the man turned the key to his apartment and opened the door. Dropping his seabag on the floor and walked in. The apartment was cold, and a thin layer of dust covered everything. He'd been away for three months and wasn't surprised at the uninhabited look to his apartment. Walking over to the answering machine he saw the light flashing to let him know he had messages waiting. Pushing the button he walked over to the fridge to grab a bottle of water. Good thing about bottled water, it didn't spoil.

"Ghost, its Webb. We have a meeting at the office at nine tomorrow morning. You're needed for another job. Don't be late this time."

"Fuck off Webb." The man muttered after hearing the message. Taking a pull from the water he waited for the next message.

"Harm…its Beth. Heard you were coming back soon…we should get together. I'll bring Allison and we can go out for dinner. Give me a call, ok?"

Well that wasn't so bad…Beth O'Neil was his first partner when he joined the Company. Not many people called him Harm anymore though…sometimes he thought he'd forgotten who Harmon Rabb Junior was. And then the nightmares came back.

Tossing the now empty bottle of water into the sink the man opened a cupboard door and pulled out a bottle of scotch. Not even bothering with a glass he took a pull from the bottle. When the next message came on he spit out some of the scotch in shock.

"Harm…its Mac. I don't know where you are or when you're going to get this. I don't know if you're ever going to get this…I don't know why I even bother anymore. Anyway…call me if you want."

Swearing to himself Harm threw the bottle against the wall and watched the amber liquid slide down the surface. He thought she'd given up months ago. He'd hoped she'd given up. Webb made a habit of throwing his relationship with Mac in Harm's face every chance he got.

Feeling the rage washing through him Harm strode over to his answering machine and snatched it off the desk and threw it across the apartment. For the thousandth time he thought to himself that he needed to change his phone number.

A knock at the door caused him to turn around quickly with his hand reaching around behind him for the .45 he had hidden behind his back.

"Mr. Rabb…you're back from your business trip!" Mrs. White said.

Harm slowly moved his hand away from the weapon when he saw it was the old lady who lived downstairs.

"Just got back Mrs. White." He said after taking a breath to push the rage down.

"I'm sorry for disturbing you Mr. Rabb…I heard noises and thought someone had broken into your apartment. Welcome back." Mrs. White said as she tottered off back down the hallway.

Picking up his phone Harm dialed a number he knew too well.

"Webb."

"I'll be there." Harm said and then hung up. It wasn't like he could not go and say he wasn't here; Webb knew exactly when Harm had gotten back. Whatever the job was, if Webb wanted him chances are it would go to hell. In the years he'd known Clayton Webb Harm had come to know that no matter how well Webb planned his missions something always happened to send them to south. With a sigh Harm collapsed on the couch and put his head in his hands. For a year now he'd worked for the Company…for a year he had jumped when called on. He'd learned things that allowed him to take advantage of his unique…skills. For six months he'd been making a name for himself in the anti-terrorist trade. For the last four months he couldn't go to sleep without the dreams haunting him. Every night he remembered the people he'd killed in the name of his country; he'd killed before as a pilot, and he'd even killed people when he was a lawyer for JAG, but it was never like this. He regretted the lives he had taken before, but they'd never given him nightmares.

He needed a drink. Picking up the phone he dialed Beth's number.

"Hello?"

"Its me." Harm said hollowly.

"Harm! You're back. How are you?" Beth asked excitedly.

"I am." Harm answered simply. Beth would understand.

"I see. A bad one?"

"No worse than any of the others. You still want to get that dinner?" Harm asked trying to change the subject.

"Sure…Allison and I weren't up to anything tonight. Where do you want to meet?"

Pausing Harm tried to think of a place where he wouldn't run into anyone he knew. Eight years had pretty much ensured that the people from his past life occupied most of the places he was familiar with and enjoyed frequenting. "Pick something dark." He said shortly.

"Murphy's?"

"No."

"The Farmhouse?" she offered naming a fake country western dive that was frequented by his current co-workers.

"It'll work. I'll meet you there in an hour."

An hour later Harm was sitting in a booth in the back corner of the dark dining room. He looked up from his fourth beer to see Beth and Allison walking towards him hand in hand. Nodding at them he stood while they sat down. Well at least his mother would be proud the manners she'd instilled in him hadn't been forgotten.

"Harm…its nice to see you again." Allison said politely. He'd met her on a few occasions since he and Beth had been partnered up flying for the Company.

"You too Allison." Harm said politely. Tossing back the rest of his beer he signaled the waitress for another. It wasn't enough to get him drunk yet, but the pain was dulled a little.

"How many is that Harm?" Beth asked in concern.

"One too many, and one too few."

"So how long are you back for?" Beth asked trying to get his mind off of his drinking.

Shrugging Harm waited for the waitress to put the glass of beer in front of him and take Beth and Allison's drink orders. Running a hand through his hair he scanned the room warily. "Not sure. Spider left a message I have to go into the office tomorrow morning."  
  
Beth would know who he was referring to…he had to admit it was childish but he got some sick pleasure from referring to Webb as Spider. Clayton hated it, and had even threatened to shoot him the next time Harm called him that. Harm didn't care. He knew Clayton didn't have it in him to shoot another agent. A terrorist, sure. An enemy soldier, no doubt. But not another agent. At least he enjoyed the nickname they'd given him when he was training with the SAS in England a few months back. Ghost. They'd started calling him that when no one could find him during training maneuvers. They didn't hear him sneak up on him, and they didn't see him sneak away once they were 'dead'. The instructors had called it unnatural, and some of the guys had taken it to heart.

Picking up her menu Beth scanned over the food offerings in the bar. "What are you having Harm?"

"Not hungry. The beer's fine." Harm said absently. He hadn't been eating much lately, and he knew he was losing weight. It wasn't like he was starving himself, he couldn't carry out missions if he was weak from not eating. He just hadn't been hungry lately.

"Harm, you should eat something. You're getting as thin as a rail." Beth said insistently.

"Look mom, I said I'm not fucking hungry." Harm said harshly.

Holding up her hands Beth shook her head. "Don't take it out on me Harm. Just a concerned friend here. What are you having Ali?" she asked her girlfriend.

An hour and three beers later Harm stood up from the table with a barely perceptible lurch. "Thanks for dinner ladies. I'll see you around."

As he pushed his way through the doors he saw two familiar faces crossing the parking lot. Just his luck to run into them here. Why the hell did he have to bring her to a place like this? Wasn't a five star restaurant more his style?

"Harm?" a hauntingly familiar voice said in shock. Ignoring her he turned down the street and thrust his hands into the pockets of his leather flight jacket. Picking up the pace he walked down the sidewalk to try and walk away from his past again.

"Harm?" he heard her call out again, desperately.

"Sarah…that wasn't Harm." Webb's familiar voice said from behind him.

"Let me go Clay…that _was_ Harm! How can you say it wasn't? I know that was Harm…why wouldn't he talk to me?"

"Trust me Sarah…" he heard Webb say.

Quickly turning a corner Harm stopped and leaned up against the wall pushing his head back as far as he could as he looked up into the cloudy night sky. In his mind he saw the shock that had changed to excitement on her beautiful face. Her hair was longer than he remembered…it looked good on her. And the music of her voice…he choked back a sob when he thought of how much he missed her voice. God, her eyes were still the deep pools of brown he had struggled to not let himself get lost in so often in the past. Pushing himself off the wall he turned and continued down the street towards his apartment. He'd left that part of himself, of his life behind…he'd left her behind and he couldn't go back.

"You can never go home again." He muttered to himself as he walked into the night.

The next morning he was up and showered at six. Looking in the mirror he ran his hand over the slight stubble that showed on his face and decided against shaving. What the hell did he care what the suits thought? Chances are they'd be sending him back out into the field soon anyway.

Flipping through the morning paper Harm slowly drank his coffee as he delayed heading out to the CIA offices until the last minute. He knew it would piss Webb off when he walked in a few minutes late. And he'd tauntingly tell Webb that he was just being "fashionably late". God, how he detested Webb and his high society ways. Scratch that…he just detested Webb period. And not just because Webb was with Mac. Getting up he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and a bottle of Tylenol® from the counter. Tossing back the two red pills he chased them with a swig of water and grabbed his coat. At least the beers and the scotch had chased away the nightmares. Striding out the door Harm slammed it shut and entered the stairwell leading down to the street. Time to go face the suits.

At nine oh six Harm pushed his way into the briefing room and slumped into a chair near the door.

"Hey guys." He said insolently.

"Rabb. Why can't you ever be on time?" Webb said in irritation.

"Stick it up your ass Spider." Harm said quietly.

"Don't call me Spider."

"Gentlemen!" Director Kreshaw said without bothering to hide how much their wrangling was annoying him. "We have an op to discuss."

"Shoot." Harm said with a slight wave of his hand.

"So glad we have your permission to continue Mr. Rabb." The Director said. "Now then…we have learned recently that someone at one of the naval bases in Iraq has been providing information to the dissadents. Agent Webb has planned a sting that will allow us to find and apprehend the individual or individuals responsible. Mr. Webb?"

"Thank you Director. Our information leads us to believe that the leak is located on this base here." Webb said indicating a spot on the map that suddenly sprung up from a digital projector. "We are going to be working with the Navy on this one in order to flush out the man or men we are looking for."

"Whoa. Hold your horses there Spider. You know I don't work with Navy personnel." Harm said sitting up straight at Webb's words.

"Chances are you won't have to Rabb. Your job is to provide high cover…we need you and that rifle of yours to make sure that everything goes as planned. We are hoping to set up a meeting with the individuals in question by posing as information brokers who can get him a better deal for his information. The Naval personnel will be working with me directly on this one posing as disgruntled personnel with information to sell our informant. Rabb, you will be stationed on top of a building across the street from the meeting location. Your job is strictly cover, you hold position until the naval personnel and I are clear after the individual or individuals have been apprehended by the capture team."

"Sounds easy. Why do I get the feeling it won't be?"

"Because you've saved his butt before." Someone at the table muttered.

Barely containing his annoyance Webb continued on with his briefing. "Once the subjects are secured and the sting team withdrawn you will rendezvous with an extraction chopper here." He continued pointing to another spot on the map.

"Who's Navy sending?" Harm asked warily. If he knew Webb it would be someone from JAG, and if he knew Webb it wouldn't be just anyone.

"Don't worry. If all goes as planned they won't even see you."

"Who. Is. It." Harm said levelly.

"Turner and MacKenzie." Webb said after a minute's pause.

"Fuck no." Harm said standing up from the table.

"Sit down Mr. Rabb." The director ordered. "As Agent Webb stated, the plan does not call for you to be in direct contact with the naval personnel. I've decided that this does not violate the…request…you've made about not working with Navy. You will be going to Iraq ahead of Webb and his team, and you will be extracting after they are safely out of the area. There will be no exposure. You go."

With a frown Harm took his seat again. He'd make damn sure they didn't know he was there…hell he'd been to Mac's apartment and she didn't know he was there. Biting his lip to keep from chuckling he thought back to that night.

It had been four months ago. He'd just returned from his special warfare training with the SEALS and had been told he was going to England for two months to train with the SAS. He'd been thinking about her a lot, and missing her even more. One night he'd gone out for a drive…he was planning on having a few drinks before he crashed, but he'd found himself outside her apartment. Not really knowing why he'd driven himself there he watched as Mac and Webb walked up to the front of the building and kissed. He watched as she invited Webb upstairs and he'd watched them go in. Without really thinking about it he'd found himself scaling the fire escape to her building and eventually found himself outside her window. He didn't know what he was doing there…he wasn't some perverted peeping tom, but he just couldn't help himself. Silently he'd watched as Mac and Webb entered the apartment and Webb had opened a bottle of red wine and poured a single glass. Good to know she hadn't fallen off the wagon; Harm knew Webb had more than a few drinks most nights. It came with the job. After they had started kissing again and began moving towards the bedroom Harm had finally allowed himself to climb back down the fire escape. It wasn't until he was back on the sidewalk that he felt the tears on his face. Wiping them away with a quick savage motion Harm walked back to his car and never came back.

"You leave this afternoon Rabb. Webb and his team will be six hours behind. Your contact will have your equipment ready for you when you arrive. She will meet you at the airport and take you to your perch."

"Go team." Harm said bitterly. He knew they hated his attitude, but they couldn't argue with it, he was the best at what he did.

Looking at his watch Webb stood up. "I need to get going sir. I have an appointment with the Admiral and his people in forty five minutes. Care to join me Rabb?" Webb asked snidely.

"No…I need to go prepare to save your ass again." Harm replied just as snidely.

When Harm left the briefing room a few minutes later Webb was waiting in the hall.

"Thought you had an appointment."

"I do…but I needed to talk to you." Webb said taking Harm's arm and leading him down the hall. "What were you doing there last night?"

"I was having dinner with Beth and Allison. Shouldn't I be asking you that question? Couldn't get a reservation at somewhere fancier?"

"Sarah picked. I don't know how she heard about it, but she heard the burgers were good and wanted to try them." Webb said pulling the face he normally did when discussing Mac's eating habits.

"Well I'll have to remember to avoid it now."

"Damn it Harm, she almost broke my arm when I tried to keep her from going over to your apartment."

"Too bad. Then she could have nursed you back to health." Harm said bitterly.

"Look Harm…I didn't know you were going to be there, I wouldn't have brought her if I did. Honest."

"Yeah right. Don't do me any favours Spider…you love tormenting me with her."

"Don't call me Spider." Webb said with a sigh. Looking at his watch he continued. "I really do have to get to Falls Church. I'll see you on the other side."

"Count on it. I won't let anyone shoot your ass off. That's my privilege." Harm said with a slight grin that could only be described as ghoulish.

Watching Webb walk off after shaking his head Harm decided to go down to the rifle range and squeeze off sound magazines to relax before he went home to pack.


	3. Chapter 2

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 2_

Marine Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie, or Mac as she was known to her friends, slowly made her way into JAG ops for the day. Passing through the bullpen without looking up she quietly slipped into her office and sat down heavily in her chair, dropping her briefcase at her side. She was sure that had been Harm last night; not the Harm she remembered with his ready smile and quick charm, but a darker, harder Harm. She had almost fell over when she saw him walk out of the bar, and he had to have seen her…he looked right at her and Clay. But his eyes…thinking about his eyes almost brought the tears back that she had shed all through the night. Where once life and mirth had reigned in his eyes, now there was nothing. They were flat pools of steel, the eyes of the dead.

With a sigh she noticed how badly her hands were shaking and decided she needed some coffee to calm her nerves. Dreading having to pretend to be cheerful she cautiously stepped out of her office to make her way to the break room. She almost turned around when she saw Harriet's sunny face coming out of the room as she got there.

"Colonel! How are you this morning ma'am?" 

"Just fine Harriet. Excuse me." Mac said and then bit her tongue. She hadn't meant to sound so harsh with Harriet, it was just sometimes she didn't know how Harriet could be so cheerful all the time.

"What's wrong ma'am?" Harriet asked with concern written upon her face.

Mac bit her tongue even harder. She couldn't tell Harriet, could she? She had to tell somebody! It was killing her to know that Harm had walked away from her, his closest friend for eight years, without a single word or a glance back. Holding up her hand to motion Harriet to not go anywhere Mac hurried into the break room and grabbed a cup of strong black coffee and then grabbed Harriet's arm and dragged her off towards her office. Closing the door behind Harriet Mac slumped back down in her chair and looked up at her friend with tears in her eyes.

"I saw him last night Harriet." She sobbed.

"Who ma'am?" Harriet asked and then stopped. There was only one person who could make the Colonel cry. "The Commander?" she asked in a hushed voice.

Nodding slightly Mac dashed the tears from her eyes. "Clay said it wasn't him, but I know it was him Harriet. I know it." She said with a fierce conviction.

"Where was it?"

"Some country western bar…the Farmhouse. I made Clay take me there for dinner instead of one of his fancy five star restaurants. We were just walking across the parking lot when he came out. I couldn't believe it Harriet…it was Harm. He looked so skinny Harriet…and his eyes…" she said plaintively.

"Did you talk to him ma'am?" Harriet asked in concern. She knew how distraught the Colonel had been since Commander Harmon Rabb had been required to leave JAG. The only contact she knew anyone to have with the Commander was her son AJ. Every couple months a package appeared in the mail from Harm to his godson; never a letter for anyone else, just AJ.

"I tried to…but he just turned away and left. He didn't even look back Harriet…it was like I was a stranger to him." Mac said with another sob as she brought her hand to her mouth.

Harriet jumped up and came around Mac's desk to wrap her in a sisterly hug. "Oh Mac…I'm so sorry. I know how much you've missed him."

"He's been gone so long Harriet…I can't even feel him anymore." Mac sobbed quietly.

A polite knock at the door caused both women to look up to see the concerned face of Petty Officer Jennifer Coates. "Ma'am…are you alright?" Jen asked quickly when she saw Mac's tearstained face.

"The Colonel just had an upsetting evening Petty Officer." Harriet said quickly.

Nodding slowly Jen just said "The Admiral would like to see you for your meeting Colonel."

"The meeting…I totally forgot!" Mac cried jumping to her feet. "What time is it?"

"You were supposed to be there five minutes ago ma'am." Jen said politely. When she'd first started asking what time it was everyone had been shocked; they all knew of the Colonel's uncanny ability to tell time without a watch.

"Thank you Coates. Please tell the Admiral I'm on my way." Mac said as she started grabbing things off her desk. As she started to leave she felt Harriet's hand on her arm.

"Colonel…don't you think you should freshen up first?" Harriet asked quietly.

Realizing she must look horrible from her recent fit of tears, Mac just nodded as Harriet led her to the bathroom. Five minutes later she was knocking on the Admiral's door with the signs of her tears washed away. Opening the door at the Admiral's bellowed "Enter!" Mac walked up to his desk and came to attention.

"Sit down Colonel. I'm sorry we had take time out of your busy day for this." The Admiral said with thinly disguised sarcasm.

"I'm sorry I'm late sir." Mac said without making excuses and sat down in one of the leather chairs nodding to Sturgis Turner who was already there.

"Its ok Sarah." A familiar voice said as Clayton Webb stepped away form the Admiral's bookcase.

"You both know Mr. Webb." The Admiral said crisply.

"Yes sir. Good to see you again Mr. Webb." Sturgis said politely.

"Commander, Colonel." Webb said just as politely.

"SecNav has decided that Mr. Webb is going to be able to borrow some of my officers yet again. That would be you two."

"I like to think of it as working with AJ, not borrowing."

"Whatever…just tell them what they need to know." the Admiral said.

"We have intelligence that indicates someone at the Naval Base in Umm Qasar is leaking information to the dissidents. With the cooperation of the Navy we're hoping to operate a sting that will allow us to capture the individual or individuals responsible."

"What's our role in this?" Sturgis asked after waiting a moment for Mac to ask the questions.

"You and the Colonel will pose as dissatisfied personnel with information you want to sell. You'll contact the individuals we tell you to and see who bites. When they bite you will get them to join you at a café in the bazaar that I indicate. We are hoping that the suspects will contact their buyers and set up a meeting…and once they attempt to get the information from you we can close the sting."

"Sounds risky Webb." The Admiral said harshly. "I'm not going to let you get my people killed."

"We've taken every precaution…we're going to have a man watching from a sniper's perch the whole time. His only task will be to ensure the safety of the sting team."

"He better be good." The Admiral said quietly.

"He's the best we've got."

"Who is he?" the Admiral asked suspiciously.

"Need to know AJ."

"I need to know Webb. Who. Is. He?" 

"Ghost." Webb said after a moment's thought.

"What kind of name is Ghost?" Sturgis asked.

"The SAS gave it to him in the summer when he was training with them on counter terrorism tactics. They were impressed when none of them could find him during their training…he got more 'kills' than anyone else and managed to elude being 'killed' himself. Like I said, Ha…he's our best." Webb said barely catching his slip.

Mac looked up and asked quietly "When do we leave?"

"Tonight, 1835 from Dulles."

"Colonel, Commander. Clear up your paperwork and have everything squared away by 1430. You can secure then and go home to pack for your trip."

"Aye aye sir." They both said coming to attention and turning to leave. They both knew a dismissal when they heard it.

"Webb…stay a moment." The Admiral said in a dangerously quiet tone.

"AJ?"

"Who is this Ghost? I've never heard of him."

"I'm surprised you haven't AJ…he trained with SEAL Team 2 in the spring. Impressed the hell out of them too. He's one of our new additions…something of a late bloomer." Webb said unable to resist throwing out hints.

Narrowing his eyes Admiral AJ Chegwidden stood up and moved over to where Webb was standing. "Rabb." He said in quiet shock.

"You're good AJ. I wasn't sure you'd pick up on the clues."

"Does he know Mac and Turner are going to be there?" 

"He does…he almost told Kershaw to go screw himself when he found out."

"Why?"

"Rabb doesn't work on ops that involve Navy personnel for some reason; its one of his demands about how his ops are run."

"Some things don't change I see. Kershaw lets him make 'demands'?" the Admiral asked with a shake of his head.

"Like I said…he's our best. I wasn't pulling your leg about the SAS and the SEALS. There's even talk the SAS want to bring him back as an instructor next time they run their anti-terrorism training program."

"Well that's Rabb for you. No matter what he puts his hat to he always comes out on top. Hell if he wanted to be a dentist, I'm sure he'd be the best damn dentist around." The Admiral said attempting to hide the regret in his voice. He'd been kicking himself ever since that damnable 'Go wrestle alligators' speech he'd given Rabb. He had no idea Rabb would go work for the CIA instead…and as a counter-terrorism specialist. "Why isn't he flying?"

"He started out that way…but soon caught Kreshaw's attention with some of his other skills. He was given Field Agent status without any previous training when he and his partner pulled an op out of the drink and salvaged it, saving hundreds of lives in the process."

"Well, I know Sturgis and Mac are going to be glad to see him…everyone worries about him."

"They won't see him AJ…not if he has his way. The only way we could get him to agree to this op was to plan an early insertion and late extraction. He won't leave his perch until they are secured on the chopper leaving the area. If everything goes according to plan they won't even know he was there. AJ…" Webb paused here. He knew how much the Admiral cared for Harm, his leaving JAG notwithstanding.

"What?" the Admiral asked suspiciously.

"He's not the same person they knew." Webb said hesitantly.

"What do you mean?"

"He's changed. A lot. He's seen and done too many things that have changed him." Webb said quietly, sinking into the chair that Mac had vacated. "I think you should know that Sarah saw him last night."

"That would explain her distraction this morning."

Nodding Webb looked up at AJ. "We were going to dinner and he happened to be at the place we were going to with some people he knows. He was leaving when we were coming in. Sarah tried to talk to him but he left without even looking at her."

"What the hell is that boy thinking?" the Admiral said sinking into the seat next to the one Webb was in.

"AJ…as much as anyone I can hazard a guess at what he's thinking. He doesn't want those who he loved to see the man he's become. You were in Vietnam AJ, you know what happened to our lone wolves out there. You know what happens to Special Forces people when they have to put their souls in storage."

"My god…what have I done?" the Admiral asked himself quietly.


	4. Chapter 3

A/N Thanks to everyone who's reviewed the first two chapters; I have to admit I wasn't too sure how people take this story because of what I've done to Harm. I was pleasantly surprised to see how well it has been received already. (I'm going to hold most of my thanks and comments to the reviewers for the afterward, but if something needs to be addressed I will do it in an AN)

A/N 2 I know I said the release rate for this story would be a little slower, and it will be, but I was thinking about Chapter 2 this morning while getting ready for work and this led naturally into Chapter 3, so I had to get both written today. And actually Chapter 4 will probably be back up as well and then its back to YCLIP for me.

Some words to the reviewers:

Hdrexel: Good to hear from you again; I'm glad that you enjoyed the first chapter.

R: Again, glad I grabbed you with the first chapter. Thanks for bringing up AJs 5th b-day party. For you I'm planning something around that…and you're right. Feelings will be high at that party.

BrightFeather: Glad you like it. I must give you some credit here…I'm really enjoying your 'Through a Glass, Darkly'. It helped me think a little on how I wanted to approach my 'What if Harm was CIA still' story. Thank you.

ReflectedWord: Thanks for the kind words. Don't worry, eventually Harm will be pulled back from the edge…but not before he goes over it.

Shelli: Fear not. I will admit that deep down I am a shipper at heart, but I don't really think Harm and Mac will just fall into each other's arms and say "Well ok, we love each other." Those stories make good reads, but for my stories I'm striving to show the struggle for them to be with each other; especially in this piece where Harm has shut himself off from his past for various reasons.

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 3_

Harm was lying in bed just staring at the cracked and pitted ceiling above him. For three days he'd been in Umm Qasar waiting for word from Webb. He hadn't gotten much sleep because he didn't drink when he was on an op, and if he didn't drink at night he couldn't escape the nightmares. Instead of facing the memory of those he'd killed and those he'd left behind Harm just didn't bother with sleep. As long as the op didn't run too long he would be fine…he could get by with a few hours of sleep a day snatched when he could combined with wake up pills.

Rolling away from the slumbering woman sleeping beside him he sat up slowly and reached for the rumpled black BDUs he was wearing on this op. Pulling them on he looked over his shoulder at the woman he'd shared his bed with. Sweat damped strands of her fiery red hair were spread over her stained pillow, her pale white skin wet with the same sheen of sweat from the heat. Amy Charleston was his contact here in Umm Qasar for this op. A British national she was put here by MI 6 with the cover of an international photojournalist and was currently on loan to the CIA. From what he'd seen of her work Harm figured she probably made a tidy sum on the side selling the photos she took to keep her cover intact.

Standing up Harm made his way over to a table up against the wall by the big window facing west. Picking up a single spotter's scope he looked down on the café where Webb had planned for the sting to close. The regular morning traffic, looked like journalists and contractors, getting their morning coffee. The radio on the table next to him crackled to life and Harm picked up the headset waiting for the transmission. 

"We need a ghost to watch over us when the sun is high." was all he heard. The message repeated twice more and then the radio went dead once again.

Walking over to the bed Harm threw Amy's shirt onto her slumbering form. "Get up. We're a go for noon." He said harshly.

Sitting up while rubbing her eyes Amy's smile at Harm died when she saw him turn away and go over to the table to start inspecting the equipment they would need. He didn't really care if she was happy that she'd spent the last two nights with him or not. She wasn't anyone special to him, just a warm body to try and fill the ache that lived where his heart had once been.

"How's it look this morning?" she asked after she'd pulled her clothes on and came to stand next to him.

"Quiet; a bunch of journalists filling up on morning coffee and swapping rumors. They're going to be coming in at noon so I want to be upstairs in an hour." Harm said tossing the case that now held the spotter's scope to Amy. "You'll spot for me."

Amy just nodded and put the case back on the table and pulled the scope out to look down at the café.

Harm opened the long hard case that contained his rifle and began to assemble the weapon. Once it was together he grabbed some rags and some gun oil and solvent and began to clean it and check the action of the weapon. When this was done he took three magazines from the case and began to load them carefully with the ammunition he'd decided to use for the job. He had no idea how many people he might need to take down, and he had no idea if they'd be armored or not so hollow point armor piercing rounds would be best in his estimation. If they weren't wearing it would just mean a bigger mess, which would give the reporters a bigger story. Once the magazines were loaded he broke the weapon back down and placed the pieces and the magazines in the case and snapped it shut.

Looking around Harm grabbed up the portable radio unit and strapped it on. Grabbing the black BDU jacket he pulled it on and slipped on a black ball cap and sunglasses. Picking up the case he took a last look around to make sure that nothing was left behind. If this went down today he wouldn't be returning to this room and he didn't want to leave anything behind.

"Dust it and then meet me on the roof." He instructed Amy and then walked out the door without waiting for her reply. Climbing the stairs in the hallway Harm ignored the looks those he passed in the hallway gave him. Pushing open the door to the roof he looked around quickly and didn't see anyone. Making his way across the roof in the midmorning heat Harm took a moment to pick the best spot to set up. Setting the case down near the spot he picked Harm opened it and began to assemble the weapon again. Sliding a magazine home Harm slid the cocking handle back to chamber a round and then put the weapon on safe. Reaching down to the case he flipped open the cleverly concealed chamber in the back of the case and pulled out a thin foam pad that he laid out where he would take up his position. 

Lying down on the pad Harm extended the bipod on his rifle and rested it on the crumbling lip of the short wall in front of him. Opening the scope Harm scanned the café below him.

Reaching up to his throat Harm keyed the mic to his radio. "The graveyard is haunted." God how he hated these codes…they seemed corny to him for some reason. Well Webb knew he was here now and would set things in motion soon. Nothing to do but wait until they showed up. Harm doubted Webb's plan would hold together, they rarely did. Reaching into the case he pulled out the two extra magazines and put them within easy reach.

As he was settling in to wait Harm heard Amy slide up next to him. "Everything's clean in the room…no prints, no fibres." She said quietly.

Nodding he just looked at the box holding her scope pointedly. "I have a feeling things are going to go to hell with this…Spider's plans usually do. Make sure you keep me aware of what's going outside my scope."

Amy just silently nodded as she pulled the scope from the hard plastic box and began to scan the occupants of the café.

At fifteen minutes to noon Harm saw two familiar figures walk into the open sided café and take the seat Webb had told Harm would be reserved for them. He knew Amy had felt him tense, but she didn't ask him any questions. Two days of him telling her to shut the hell up had finally cured her of her curiosity about him. Reaching up Harm adjusted his scope to zoom in on Mac's face. He knew he couldn't take the time to watch her, but he couldn't help himself…he just wanted to look at her, to memorize every line. As he was watching her he saw her look up and in his general direction and shifted the scope off of her. Mac always had seemed to be able to sense when something wasn't as it should be, and a sniper on the roof wasn't a good thing for someone that day.

"You know her, don't you Ghost." Amy stated quietly beside him.

"In another life." Harm answered just as quietly.

"She's beautiful."

"Focus on the job Charleston. Those two people will be dead if we don't. It doesn't matter who they are, or if I knew them or not. We're here to make sure they go home."

Nodding Amy went back to scanning the other occupants of the café. "There's our guy." She said when caught sight of a Navy Lieutenant Commander making his way to Mac and Strugis' table with Webb beside him.

Harm watched as the two met up with Mac and Sturgis and handshakes were exchanged all around. Something wasn't right about the situation a small voice in Harm's head told him. He watched as Webb ordered coffee for him and the others and then he noticed something. Running his scope around the café he cursed.

"What?"

"There's a hell of a lot of muscle there. And I don't think its all Spider's." Harm said as he counted off the number of overly large men he had seen in the café. Most of them appeared to be of Arabic descent and probably weren't working for Webb. As he watched another man made his way to the table with three very large goons around him. This would be the contact.

Harm made an effort to slow his breathing. He needed to get it as slow and shallow as he could so he could shoot between breaths. This was it…things were going to go down. "Keep that scope moving Charleston. Things are about to go south."

"How do you know?"

"I know Spider. Things are going down, now." Harm said as he watched Webb stand up and offer to shake the new man's hand. Instead one of the goons grabbed Webb's hand and forced him to the ground. All around the café men were standing up and moving towards the table.

"Fuck." Harm said softly to himself as he squeezed off a shot that smashed into the head of the man holding Webb. Quickly shifting his scope he squeezed off two more rounds into the other two goons the man had brought with him.

"Two at eleven o'clock." Harm head Amy say. Shifting his scope to the left he killed two more men in-between his heartbeats.

"One o'clock, red hat." One more man fell into a heap as Harm squeezed the trigger of his rifle. 

Without saying a word Harm listened to Amy call out his targets and he worked his way through everyone who was threatening the people he was told to protect. Soon Mac, Webb, Strurgis and the suspect were the only four people standing in the café. Working on the assumption that everyone who hadn't run and was threatening the four people were targets Harm was fairly happy with the way things had worked out.

Suddenly Harm heard the squeal of tires as vehicles sped down the street in their direction. Looking over the edge of the building he didn't see the nondescript cars he expected to be there with the capture team. Instead he saw beat up old trucks full of men holding automatic weapons coming in their direction.

"Shit." He said quietly as he keyed his mic again. "Spider, this is Ghost. You have some party crashers coming your way."

"Can you give us some cover?" Webb asked over the radio.

"Negative. There are too many…I didn't come prepared to take on an army. Hold your position…damn it Webb I knew this would fucking happen!" he almost screamed into the radio. Grabbing up the single magazine he had remaining Harm slung the rifle over his back and sprinted to the door leading back into the shabby building he had been hiding out in. He hoped Amy was good enough to clean up the mess and pick up the brass before she went to ground.

Pushing his way through the people in the hallways Harm flew down the stairs of the building until he hit the ground floor. He had to get her out of there, he said he'd keep her safe. Bursting through the door that led into the building Harm glanced down both sides of the street to see the men from the trucks walking carefully towards the café hugging the buildings on his side of the street. Chuckling to himself he couldn't help but be pleased at how much fear these men had of him when he sat up high with his rifle. Pulling the .45 from behind his back he squeezed off a few rounds at the men closest to him and then sprinted across the street towards the café.


	5. Chapter 4

A/N OK. Brightfeather has picked up on something I feel that I have to admit. Hi, my name is RinkRat and I'm a cliffhanger-a-holic. Its funny…I hate season finales because they end on cliffhanger notes and I have to wait months to see the next part, but when I write I just can't seem to end my chapters on anything but cliffhangers. At least I update quicker than TPTB!

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 4_

Mac was just overcoming her shock at seeing the head of the man holding Webb on the ground explode like an overripe melon. Two more shots rang out and the other two goons dropped. Mac pushed the table over and took cover with Sturgis and the Lieutenant Commander behind it as the sniper watching over them went to work dropping everyone else who came close to them. Looking around the table she had to admit he was good…not one shot was wasted; every time he fired a man dropped dead. Probably a marine in a past life she thought to herself with pride. Everyone knew the Marines turned out the best snipers around.

Just then Webb pulled himself around the table and sat down next to her. He didn't even look at her as he listened to something being said on his radio. "Can you give us some cover?" he asked the person on the other end and then listened to the reply.

Swearing to himself he looked at the three people watching him. "That was Ghost…he says we've got some company coming hard and fast. He's unable to continue to provide support from his perch…sounds like he's on his way down to get us out. Sarah…" Webb started to say as they heard the distinctive sound of a .45 handgun being fired across the street.

Looking over the edge of the table Mac saw a shockingly familiar figure sprinting across the street with a rifle over his shoulder and a .45 he was using to provide his own cover fire. "Harm!" she said in shock.

"Harm?" Sturgis asked as he looked over the table to see his oldest friend making his way towards them under fire.

Stopping near a pillar Harm dropped to one knee and holstered his .45. Unslinging his rifle he slid the last magazine home as he looked over at the table. "Get them the fuck out of here Spider, or I _will_ shoot your ass off this time."

"Where do you suggest we go Ghost?" Webb asked sarcastically. Obviously the street was out.

"There's a door behind you that leads down into the kitchen. Take it and take cover in the kitchen until I can get you out." Harm said as he brought the rifle to his shoulder and started to squeeze off rounds at anyone who showed themselves to him. "If they die Spider, so do you."

Mac felt Sturgis pulling her to her feet and pushing her towards the back of the café. Stopping she looked back at the sight of Harm kneeling by the pillar firing his rifle every couple seconds. She was shocked to see the look of intense concentration on his face as he focused every fibre of his being into killing anyone who walked into his sights.

"Harm?" she asked quietly still not believing he was there…wait! Clay had called him Ghost. Harm was the CIA's best counter terrorism agent? He was the one the SAS had dubbed Ghost?

Without even bothering to look at her Harm just said "I didn't save your ass to let you get it shot off Marine. Get into the kitchen NOW!" and continued to fire his rifle.

Letting Sturgis pull her towards the back of the café Mac looked over her shoulder to see Harm slide behind the table they had been using for cover. He cradled his rifle against his chest like it was a baby and she couldn't help but feel shock at the intense hatred that emanated from his eyes. 'He hates me now' she thought to herself.

"GO MARINE!" he screamed at her as he popped up and squeezed off three quick shots and then dropped back down.

With a final tug Sturgis pulled Mac into the stairway that led down into the kitchen and she could only hear the shots as his rifle rang out above them. Surrendering to Sturgis' insistent tugging Mac followed him down to the kitchen and moved over to where Webb and the Lieutenant Commander, a man named Black, waited.

"Why didn't you tell me Clay?" she asked quietly.

"That Harm was working for the Company? It was need to know Sarah."

"You could have told me…us."

With a sigh Webb looked into her eyes and said softly "He told me not to Sarah. He didn't want anyone to know where he was."

Sturgis looked like he was going to choke on something and then suddenly hauled back and drove a punch into Webb's jaw. "You _should_ have told us."

"Damn it Turner, I wanted to. But he's not the man you remember." Webb said once he'd picked himself up off the ground again.

"What do you mean?" Mac asked sharply.

"Sarah…Harm's…different. He's changed."

"He's Harm." Mac said insistently. "And he hates me…" she sobbed. "I saw it in his eyes."

"Sarah…he always looks like that when he's on an op." Webb said softly. "Its scary how into his work he throws himself…he scares the hell out of me and about half the people at the office. And I've known him as long as you have. Trust me it has nothing to do with you."

Just then they heard the sound of someone making their way stealthily down the stairs. Webb pulled his Sig handgun from inside his suit jacket and Sturgis and Mac looked around for weapons. Expectantly they watched a single tall shadow fill the door. A mocking laugh echoed throughout the large stone kitchen when the shadow came to a stop.

"Put that away Spider. You're going to hurt yourself." Harm said bitterly as he stepped into the kitchen. Mac instantly saw the blood that was flowing down the side of his face. Rushing up to him she put her hand on his cheek and looked into his eyes. She couldn't suppress a shudder as she saw once more how dead they looked.

"You're hurt." She said softly.

"One of them got a lucky shot…just grazed me. I'm fine. Move." Harm said as he gently pushed Mac out of his way and went to the back of the kitchen. Reaching a large wooden shelf unit Harm gripped the edge of it and threw it to the ground. Behind the unit was a darkened arch and more stairs leading down.

"Those lead to the sewers. It's the only way you're going to get out of here. Turn right at the end of this hallway and then keep to the right hand side of the passage. I'll be right behind you." Harm said with a gesture at the stairs.

"How'd you know about that?" Webb asked.

"I've had a couple days to kill waiting for you to pull your shit together."

"Buddy, what are you doing here?" Sturgis asked with the shock still on his face.

"Fixing one of Spider's screw ups."

"Spider?"

"Him." Harm said with a short gesture towards where Webb was rubbing his jaw.

"Damn it Rabb…" Webb started when Harm pointed at him.

"Shut up Spider. I told you this was going to go to hell, but you didn't fucking listen, did you? Now get down those god damned stairs and take your people with you. I said I'll be right behind you."

Silently Webb started herding everyone down the stairs while Harm bustled through the kitchen looking for something. Mac stopped at the bottom of the stairs and called out "Harm?"

"I said I'll be right behind you. What the fuck is with you people? GO!"

With one hand on the wall Mac followed the others down the passageway as she tried to get her mind around what she had witnessed in the last half hour. All of a sudden Harm was there, but he wasn't Harm. He was harsh and cold and brusque. He'd killed countless men and hadn't stopped to blink. Mac knew that in combat you couldn't allow yourself to think about those you were killing, that you just fired your weapon and hoped you made it through everything in one piece. But there was something…cold…about Harm that went beyond not thinking about it.

As the four of them reached the end of the passageway she heard hurried steps down the passage and watched as Harm caught up to them with a ghoulish grin.

"Might want to get out of the way…" he said ominously.

"What did you do?" Webb asked warily.

"Rigged a little surprise for our friends when they break down that door. Should be going off…right…about…now."

As Harm finished the word 'now' an explosion rocked the building above them and they could clearly hear the screams of the dying.

"Hmm. Thought it would be bigger." Harm said with a shrug and then started off down the passageway without a look back.

"Did Amy get out?" Webb asked rushing up to Harm.

"No idea. When your plan went to hell I left her on the roof; she was cleaning up the last I saw. She's a bright girl…she'll be fine."

Mac had no idea who this woman was that they were talking about, but it wasn't like Harm to leave a woman alone when she might be in danger. What had happened to him? A little voice in the back of her head told her she knew exactly what had happened to him. He'd lost just about everything and everyone he'd ever loved and found himself with nothing. All because he'd gone after her and Clay in Paraguay.

Soon Harm had led them through the sewer system and up a small drainage ditch outside town.

"Viper 1, this is Ghost. We need a pickup a half mile west of the city at extraction point three."

Mac watched as Harm listened to the reply for his extraction request and noticed just how thin he'd become, how angular his features were now. She also saw faded scars she didn't recognize on his face. Where had he gotten those? What had he been doing? She knew nothing of his life anymore.

"Your ride will be here in five Spider."

"Where are you going Harm?" Mac asked reaching for his arm when she saw him start to walk up the side of the ditch.

"To take up a cover position and then go catch my own ride."

"You're not extracting with us?" Sturgis asked shocked. 

"Don't ride Navy anymore." Harm said simply and then continued his walk up the ditch and took up a position above them with his .45 in his hand watching to make sure they were going to make it out in one piece.

**Afterthought: **I've intentionally portrayed Mac here a little differently than in the show. As I said in my forward everyone has been changed by Harm's absence, and the shock of seeing him again in Iraq was enough to rock her hard enough that she just shut down and kept asking questions. For the Mac purists out there, this is an alternate universe of JAG. Everyone is different from the show in one degree or another. You will see the courageous tough marine we all know and love again, just not right away.


	6. Chapter 5

A/N Thanks for the reviews; always appreciated greatly.

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 5_

Squinting, Harm looked blankly at the empty bottle that he could just barely see sitting on the table in front of him. Slowly he closed his eyes and then opened them again as if in an attempt to make something disappear. With a heavy sigh he sat up and realized that he'd passed out on his couch again. He'd gotten back from the op in Iraq three days before and had been hitting the bottle even harder than usual since his debriefing. It wasn't that the op had degenerated into a free for all in front of the café, or the fact that he'd probably killed somewhere around sixty men between the initial fire fight, the dash across the street and the bomb he'd planted in the kitchen. And it only had a little to do with the nightmares. This time he was trying to chase away something even more haunting than the nightmares; he'd seen the look in Mac's eyes when he'd been trying to get them back into the kitchen. He'd seen the fear and revulsion when she looked at him. Every time he closed his eyes he saw the looks of terror she was giving him and he couldn't help but feel weak. He needed to be strong, he needed to be sharp. He couldn't afford to be weak, not anymore. Weakness on an op would cause people to die.

Running a hand through his hair he noticed for the first time how stiff and greasy it felt. Carefully he stood up and started to make his way to the shower only to stop when he saw the chair propped up against the door knob. He stared at the chair for five minutes without remembering why it was there and then it all came rushing back to him.

First it had been Webb banging on his door yelling that he wanted to talk to him. Then it was Sturgis' baritone trying to be reasonable but demanding answers. To each of these the only response he had made had been to continue to play the blues on his guitar as if their answers could be found in the sorrowful riffs. He was pretty sure it was hours later when he heard a softer knock at his door. Knowing Mac wouldn't take silence or blues as an answer Harm had pushed the chair up under to the knob to prevent her from using her key. He should probably get the locks changed…too many people from his past life had keys to the apartment. For hours Harm had sat on that chair playing all of the blues songs he knew and then launched into some of his own creations. Finally he had heard her leave and he hoped she had found the answers she was looking for in the weeping of his guitar. That was when he'd opened the fresh bottle of scotch and hit it with a vengeance.

Shaking his head Harm viciously kicked the chair away from the door and then continued on his way to the shower. Stripping off the sweat stained and dirty shirt he was wearing Harm turned on his shower and cranked up the hot water. As steam filled the glass enclosed bathroom Harm pulled off the rest of his clothes and stepped under the scalding water. After what felt like hours but was probably closer to twenty minutes Harm slowly turned the knobs to stop the flow of water. Grabbing a towel Harm stepped out of the shower and went up to his bedroom to find some clean clothes.

Pulling on a pair of faded jeans and a plain t-shirt Harm made his way down towards the kitchen when he realized how ravenous he was. As he got the bottom of the short flight of stairs he came to a stop when he saw Mac standing in his doorway. Hungrily his eyes took in the sight of her as he noticed everything about her. Her uniform was rumpled, he would even go so far as to say it looked slept in. She had been crying, he could tell by the puffiness around her eyes. He had to push down the instinctive urge to go comfort her; she wouldn't want to be comforted by someone she feared. Her lips were slightly parted as if she were ready to give answer to a question. At first he could only stand there and stare at her but when she lowered her gaze to look at her feet he felt the surge of rage he'd become accustomed to."Do us both a favour and just turn around and leave." He said harshly as he walked across the apartment to the kitchen to look for some food.

"What happened here?" Mac asked as she looked at the wreck of his living room. Empty bottles were laying everywhere, dirty plates sat on the table and the floor, and clothes were piled in small heaps all over the place.

"I gave the maid the month off. Sorry it doesn't live up to your standards. What are you doing here?" he asked bluntly.

Walking silently into the living room Mac picked up one of the empty bottles and sniffed briefly at it. "And this?"

"Used for medicinal purposes only." Harm said through clenched teeth as he strode into the living room and snatched the bottle away from Mac.

"Medicinal purposes? Harm, listen to yourself. What happened to you?" Mac asked trying to catch his eyes.

"Nothing. You should leave." Harm said coldly.

"I just got here." Mac said with an attempt at humor.

"Well now you can just leave." Harm said tossing the bottle onto the couch and returning to the kitchen in his search for food.

"Where have you been? What have you been doing? Talk to me Harm…it's me…Mac. I haven't seen you in almost a year and now when I do I find…this?"

With a sigh Harm slammed the fridge he'd just opened to continue his quest for food. Turning towards Mac he put his hands on the counter and looked at her levelly. He knew she was there out of some misguided sense of loyalty to their long dead friendship. But he'd seen the way she looked at him in Iraq…knew she thought he was some kind of monster. 'And she'd probably be right' he thought to himself. "Colonel MacKenzie, if you're here to thank me for getting you and your team out of Iraq, fine. You're welcome. Good bye." He said as coldly as he could. He needed for her to leave before he fell apart again. "Get the fuck out of my apartment." He added quietly.

Mac looked at him like he'd slapped her when she heard him. With three quick steps she was in front of him and her hand made contact with the side of his face. Fine, he deserved it. Maybe now she would go away and he could find a way to get her to stop haunting him. "What happened to you Harm?" she asked after taking a deep breath to calm herself down.

"Harm's dead; he died in Paraguay." Harm said bitterly. "Sorry you missed the funeral."

Mac put her hand to mouth and looked at Harm like he'd just killed her best friend. Maybe he had…or at least killed the memory of him. Grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair it hang from he shrugged into it. "Fine; you don't want to go, I will." He said and then walked out of his apartment. When he hit the street he got on his bike and kicked it to life. As he was pulling the sunglasses out of his pocket he saw Mac come out the door and look around until she saw him. She hurried up to him yelling for him to wait. Some twisted part deep down inside where he used to keep his soul kept him from putting the bike into gear and driving away before she got there.

"Harm…wait. Why won't you let me help you? Why won't you talk to me?" she asked him plaintively.

Looking at her Harm just shook his head. "I told you Colonel, the man you're looking for is dead. He doesn't live here anymore." He said before he put his bike in gear and roared off.

**Afterthought:** I'm sorry this is such a short chapter. Originally I'd planned to have him go to Blacksburg to go flying and find out Pop had sold the outfit to Grace Aviation. That's going to happen, however I just felt that this was a much better place to leave this chapter and lead into the next from Mac's pov. Let me know if you think Harm comes across as whiny in this chapter…there's just something more I think I can do for him here…but I'm not sure what it is.


	7. Chapter 6

A/N Just a quick note. This chapter was originally going to be from Mac's POV, but I think it works better from AJ's.  
  
A/N 2: I have received a number of requests to lighten up on Harm and not make him such an ass. The whole point of this story is to portray him in this manner...have faith dear reader, all will become clear in time.  
  
A/N 3: I would like to thank CK for volunteering her services as a beta reader.  
  
**A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 6_  
  
Admiral AJ Chegwidden didn't like feeling useless, but that's exactly how he'd been feeling since Harmon Rabb Jr. was thrust back into the lives of all the JAG personnel a week before. The initial shock and dismay he'd felt at Webb's confession that Harm had become a deep insertion black ops agent of the CIA, had been replaced by a slow burning anger. Anger at himself for letting Rabb go, for forcing Rabb into this. Anger at Kershaw for using his officer so badly. Anger at Mac for not having the presence of mind to see what was right in front of her, but mostly he was angry at Rabb for allowing himself to be used like this.  
  
Stabbing his phone's intercom button, he waited for his yeoman to answer. "Admiral?" Coates' voice drifted through the speaker phone.  
  
"Coates, has MacKenzie decided to grace us with her presence yet?"  
  
"I haven't seen her yet sir." Coates answered hesitantly.  
  
"DAMN THAT WOMAN!" Chegwidden roared as he stabbed the intercom button again to break the connection. Picking up his phone he dialed the familiar number quickly and waited for his wayward officer to pick up.  
  
"MacKenzie." Mac's voice echoed from the speakerphone.  
  
"Are you alright Colonel?" Chegwidden asked in a deceptively calm tone.  
  
He heard Mac take a deep breath before answering. "Honestly sir, I'm not too sure."  
  
"Then may I ask you this Colonel? Where the hell is my chief of staff? She certainly isn't in the office."  
  
"Admiral...sir...I'm at Harm's." Mac answered hesitantly. "At his apartment sir."  
  
"Is he there with you?" Chegwidden asked.  
  
"No sir...he left when I refused to."  
  
"What do you mean he left?"  
  
"He got on a motorcycle and drove off sir. He left, he's gone again." Mac answered testily.  
  
What the hell was she saying? Rabb didn't run away from a fight...if anything he ran headlong into trouble every chance he got. "Do you know where he was going Mac?"  
  
"No sir." Mac answered after a moment's hesitation.  
  
Taking off his glasses the Admiral rubbed the bridge of his nose briefly. Had senior officers always been this much trouble? "Here's what you're going to do Mac. You're going to get into your car, and then you're going to drive to the office. When you get to the office you will report to me immediately. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
"But sir..." Mac began to protest.  
  
"What part of my order did you not understand Colonel?"  
  
"Sir...I need to speak to him..."  
  
"Colonel, allow me to remind you of the consequences of disobeying a direct order. The next words I want to hear out of your craw better be aye aye, sir."  
  
"Aye aye, sir." Mac said trying to mask the sarcasm.  
  
"Good. This conversation is over." Chegwidden said and then pounded the cancel button on his phone. Punching the intercom button again, he simply said "Get me Roberts."  
  
A couple of minutes later, as he was going over some papers the intercom buzzed. "What?" he asked.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Roberts is here sir."  
  
"Send him in." Chegwidden said, returning to his paperwork. Having come to attention in front of the admiral's desk, Chegwidden looked up at Bud Roberts expectantly.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Roberts reporting as ordered sir."  
  
"I am in need of your uncanny ability to ferret information out quickly Commander."  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"I understand when Rabb went...off the radar almost a year ago, you conducted a little investigation to see if you could locate him."  
  
"Ah...yes sir. I...that is, we were worried about him sir." Bud said with a slight blush to his cheeks.  
  
"Ah, and you felt that because I was the one who chased Rabb away I wouldn't be interested in knowing what you found out, is that it Commander?" Chegwidden asked harshly. The very idea that he wouldn't care about Harm struck him as ludicrous.  
  
"Not exactly sir. It's just...well, you've been preoccupied Admiral." Bud said hurriedly.  
  
"Well...now I need that information Commander. Do you have any ideas where I might find Mr. Rabb?" Chegwidden asked.  
  
"It's true then sir?"  
  
"What's true Mr. Roberts?"  
  
"That the Colonel and Commander Turner...they were rescued by the Com...by Harm sir?"  
  
Shaking his head the Admiral cursed to himself silently. He should have known that scuttlebutt would race ahead of anything he might say about the matter. "Between us Commander, it's true. It appears that Harm is working for the CIA now and his talents were required for the mission that Colonel MacKenzie and Commander Turner undertook. Now then...do you know where I might find him?"  
  
"Ummm...not really, sir." Bud said hesitantly. When he saw the look the Admiral was giving him he continued quickly "But I have a thought as to a place he might have been at some point sir."  
  
"Well Mr. Roberts? What is it? I don't have all day."  
  
"Sarah sir...his plane, not the Colonel. Last we heard, he was keeping it out near Blacksburg with a guy named Pops. I can't imagine the Commander not going out to fly once in awhile sir." Bud said, not even noticing having referred to Harm as 'the Commander'.  
  
Rubbing the bridge of his nose again the Admiral nodded. "You may be right Commander. Good work."  
  
"Thank you sir." Bud said with a rush of joy. It had been far too long since the Admiral had praised anyone.  
  
"Dismissed." Chegwidden said. After Bud came to attention and walked out, the Admiral hit his intercom button again.  
  
"Sir?" Coates asked timidly.  
  
"Clear my schedule for the day Coates. And get Colonel MacKenzie in here as soon as she shows up."  
  
"Aye aye, sir." Coates replied.  
  
Packing up the paperwork on his desk, Chegwidden barely looked up at Mac's knock on his door. "Enter!" he called out.  
  
"Colonel MacKenzie reporting as ordered sir." Mac said anxiously.  
  
Looking up the Admiral almost fell out of his chair at what he saw. Normally Mac was one of the most squared away Marines he had ever seen, but right now her uniform looked like something pulled out of a dirty laundry basket. "Good lord Colonel. Did you get dressed in the dark?"  
  
Mac took a quick look down at her uniform and blushed. Quickly she tried to come up with an explanation that didn't include the phrase 'I spent the night sleeping on Harm's doorstep'. "No excuse sir."  
  
"Damn right there's no excuse." Chegwidden said unsympathetically and then sighed. "What am I going to do with you Colonel? You've been a mess for the last two days since you returned from Iraq."  
  
Wisely Mac held her tongue and simply stood there looking past the Admiral at a point on the wall waiting for him to continue.  
  
"Colonel, I am going to be out of the office for the rest of the day. If you can get yourself squared away, I expect you to run things while I am gone."  
  
"May I inquire as to where the Admiral will be going in case we need to get a hold of you sir?"  
  
"No you may not. I will have my cell, but don't call unless it's an emergency. I'll be checking in regularly." Chegwidden said as he stood and grabbed his cover. "That will be all Colonel."  
  
"Aye aye, sir." Mac said hesitantly.  
  
"You wish to add something else Colonel?"  
  
"Permission to speak freely."  
  
"When in the past have you ever not, Mac. Speak."  
  
"Sir...I'm worried about Harm."  
  
"Mr. Rabb is not your concern at this time Colonel."  
  
Shocked, Mac just stared at her commanding officer. "How can you say that sir?"  
  
"Colonel, right now your concern is running the office while I am away. I believe you are also due in court this afternoon, so I suggest you set your mind on the tasks at hand. Pining for Harmon Rabb won't solve anything today Colonel."  
  
"Yes sir." Mac said stiffly, coming to attention once more.  
  
As Mac marched out of his office the Admiral followed stopping at Coates' desk. "Petty Officer, I am going to be out of the office for the rest of the day. If you need anything, see Colonel MacKenzie."  
  
"Aye aye, sir" Coates said with a quiver in her voice.  
  
"Oh for God's sake Coates, I'm not going to bite you." Chegwidden said harshly then strode out of the office.  
  
It wasn't much to go on, but hopefully Bud's information about Harm's plane was accurate. He didn't like what he'd heard about his one time officer, the man who had become something of a son to him. He needed to see him, to talk to him, to look into his eyes to see for himself what had happened. He needed to find the man they called Ghost. 


	8. Chapter 7

** A Man Called Ghost  
_   
_**_Chapter 7_  
  
Harm glanced outside at the sheeting rain that was falling hard and fast. He'd just made it to Blacksburg when the clouds had broken putting an end to his plans of flying. When he'd left his apartment, he didn't know where he was going or what he was going to do, he just knew he needed to get away from Mac. Even though it had been hours since he'd said those spiteful things to her, he could still feel where her palm had made contact with his cheek. The old saying was true after all...you only hurt the ones you love. He knew even though she feared him that she would try and save him. Probably another one of her misplaced loyalties, she probably felt she owed him for Paraguay. He couldn't let her do that though...there was no saving him, she'd only hurt herself if she tried. He'd gone too far, there was no coming back for him now. The sooner she gave up any idea of saving him, the less it would hurt her. It was funny really...he could kill a man, at 3000 yards or 3 inches and he no longer cringed at the idea. But hurting Mac like he had...it made him feel dirty. Tossing back the last of his beer, he signaled for another and looked around the bar at the other pilots gathered there. Crop dusters, charter pilots; small time fish really, but they were men he could still relate to on one level or another.  
  
His fresh beer arrived just as the door to the smoky bar opened to let in some of the downpour. Looking idly over his shoulder to see who would be stupid enough to walk around in this rain, Harm almost choked on his beer. A tall, broad shouldered man in a Navy Admiral's uniform stood shaking the rain from his coat. Of all the dives, in all the world, he had to walk into this one. Turning back to face the back of the bar Harm just shrugged at the bartender and took a pull from his beer.  
  
"I'm looking for a man named Rabb...Harmon Rabb. Anyone here know where I might find him?" Chegwidden's unmistakable voice boomed out through the bar.  
  
"Short guy? Kinda squinty eyed?" One of the bar's patrons wheezed.  
  
"No...you're thinking of Harry Ren, Joe." Another patron answered.  
  
"Ah." Joe said with a shrug, then he returned to his drink.  
  
"He's tall...about six four. Word is he is supposed to keep his plane out these ways. It's a yellow Steerman, he calls her Sarah."  
  
"Old yellow bi-plane?"  
  
AJ nodded at the question.  
  
"I've seen it...hasn't been flown in months. Its out at Grace Aviation I think." A voice spoke up from the shadows.  
  
"I was told he kept it with Pops." AJ said.  
  
"Pops sold out to that Grace woman. Haven't seen her in awhile though...think her daughter is running things now. She's too damn young to be running a business if you ask me." The same voice responded.  
  
From the mirror hanging on the wall, Harm could see AJ step up to the bar. It was only a matter of time before the Admiral saw him; hell Harm was shocked the old SEAL hadn't seen him already. What the hell, maybe he'd see how far he could ? the old man one more time.  
  
"I know where you can find him." Harm said lowly.  
  
AJ just turned at the sound of Rabb's voice and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "Rabb."  
  
"AJ...fancy meeting you here." Harm said raising his glass towards his former CO.  
  
"We need to talk." AJ said simply.  
  
Shrugging, Harm took another drink of his beer. "No...actually I don't think we do. Everything that needed to be said has been said."  
  
"I don't think so, Rabb." AJ said coming to stand next to Harm at the bar.  
  
"Really? I thought your 'go wrestle alligators or drive a cab' statement summed everything up nicely." Harm said without bothering to disguise the bitterness in his voice. "Tell you what AJ. Why don't you drag your ass back to JAG and forget we even saw each other. I can tell you quite assuredly that I won't waste a moment thinking about it myself."  
  
"What happened to you Harm?" AJ asked, peering at Harm looking for the man he knew.  
  
"Sorry AJ. Need to know. You know how it is." Harm said, finishing his beer. Holding up the empty glass he signaled for yet another beer. At this rate he'd have to sit around here for awhile before he took off, but if the rain didn't let up that wouldn't be a problem. Besides, dealing with Chegwidden wasn't something he'd planned on when he came to that morning.  
  
Slamming his hand down on the bar, AJ grabbed Harm's shoulder with his free hand "No Rabb. I don't know how it is."  
  
"Take your hand off me." Harm said quietly. Everyone around the two men studiously looked everywhere but at them.  
  
"Harm...Mac's worried about you...we're all worried about you." AJ tried appealing to Harm's loyalty to his friends.  
  
"You all looked real worried when I was in the brig for Singer's murder. And you, Admiral, were just so worried when Mac and Webb were in Paraguay."  
  
"That's different Harm. I didn't force you to leave..." AJ started before Harm interrupted him.  
  
"Damn it AJ." Harm said bitterly. "You just don't get it do you? I didn't leave JAG. You all left me."  
  
"Damn it Rabb..."  
  
"No...don't apologize AJ." Harm cut him off. "It just crystallized things for me...a year in hell helps you see things real clear. Except that wasn't hell, was it AJ. Not the hell people talk about when they fear 'going to hell', or when they talk about the place where the devil lives. I've been to that hell AJ. What you all did to me, that wasn't really hell. It was more like the gates of hell."  
  
"Damn it son, what's happened to you?"  
  
"Don't call me son!" Harm shouted stepping away from AJ and throwing his arms up. "You're not my fucking father AJ."  
  
Holding his own hands up AJ stepped clear of Harm. "Fine...I won't call you son, but what about Mac? What about Bud and Harriet and the boys? What about Sturgis? I can understand how you hate me after all that I did to you Harm, but what about them?"  
  
"Oh? You mean all my friends who came to visit me when I was wrongly accused of murdering a woman? How could I forget them."  
  
"That was my doing Rabb." AJ said harshly.  
  
"No it wasn't, sir. See...when Mac was accused of murdering her husband you didn't order us to stay away form her...hell when Mic was set to prove her guilt, I threw everything I had into proving she was innocent, because I knew she didn't do it. But you all questioned me. Every last one of you thought deep down inside that I was capable of murdering Singer. Every one of you."  
  
"Harm..."  
  
"Don't patronize me AJ. If there was even a shred of doubt, then you wouldn't have ordered them to stay away...Mac wouldn't have stayed away." Harm said ruthlessly. "You know...I waited for you to come see me AJ. I waited for Mac. I guess I just got tired of waiting."  
  
"Harm...just come back. For a day...for an hour. Just to let everyone know you're alright. Little AJ's birthday is coming up...he misses you."  
  
Looking at the Admiral incredulously Harm slowly shook his head. Pushing himself away from the bar he grabbed his jacket from where he'd hung it on a stool. "You don't get it, do you AJ? There's nothing left of that Harm. They don't want to know how I am...trust me. My good days are the stuff of their nightmares...so just do everyone a favor. Tell them I died, or that you couldn't find me, or something."  
  
With those last words, Harm turned from the Admiral. Shoving the door open, he walked into the unrelenting downpour. 


	9. Chapter 8

A/N Sorry for the delay, real life came calling last night.  
  
**A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 8_  
  
Harm slowed his pace to match that of the two men he was following. For almost a week he'd been following these two, and two more just like them. The intel he had on them, claimed they were radical leftovers from Saddam's reign. Chased out of their own country, they had hooked up with Bin Laden and were in the process of planning a strike against numerous targets within the States. At least that's what the intel said. Right now it looked like they were more interested in planning dinner than a terrorist strike. Both men had turned into a small restaurant along the Via Augusta. Harm marveled that once again they stopped at the same place they'd eaten at every day since he'd gotten to Barcelona.  
  
With a sigh, after eight minutes, Harm followed the two men into the restaurant. It wasn't that he hated the food there...it was quite good, he especially liked the paella, but all these guys did was eat. They were here every couple of hours. At first, Harm thought something was up, but after a couple days of surveillance, it appeared that they really liked eating Spanish food.  
  
As he was finishing his simple meal Harm's cell phone rang. Setting down his fork, Harm opened the phone and saw O'Neil B on the call display. What the hell did Beth want? He hadn't seen her since that night at the Farmhouse. Pushing the connect button, Harm held the phone up to his ear. "Hello?"  
  
"Honey...I'm finally here!"  
  
"Uhh...that's great Beth." Harm said trying not to sound confused.  
  
"Listen...sweetie I lost that little piece of paper where you wrote down the hotel address...can you give it to me again?"  
  
"Sure...it's Apartamentos Augusta, right on the Via Augusta. I'm just down the street right now having lunch. Why don't I meet you in the lobby?" Harm asked. He sure as hell wanted to find out what was going on.  
  
"That would be terrific lover." Beth purred into the phone. Okay, now Harm really wanted to know what was going on.  
  
Twenty minutes later, he was standing in his hotel lobby waiting for Beth to arrive. He didn't have to wait long, when he saw her get out of a cab with a single suitcase and come through the doors with a big smile on her face.  
  
"Honey!" she called when she saw Harm. Walking up to him she wrapped him in a big hug. "I missed you sooooo much," she cooed.  
  
"What's going on Beth?" Harm asked in a whisper.  
  
"Heard you needed backup. Blaisdale got me assigned to it." Beth whispered back. "By the way, our cover is we're married."  
  
"I figured that." Harm answered quietly. "You must be tired from your long flight...sweetie. Why don't we go up to m...our room?" he asked in a normal tone of voice.  
  
"Lovely idea sweetums." Beth replied cheerfully.  
  
As soon as the door to his hotel room was closed Harm whirled on Beth. "Alright...what the hell is this?"  
  
"Like I said Harm...oh, sit down. I'm not going to stare up at you with you looming like that." Beth said as she playfully batted her eyelashes at him. She waited until Harm sat down on the bed before she continued. "Anyway...they wanted you to have some backup. It was thought a wife would be easier to believe than sending someone else. They were going to pair you up with Debby Richards, but Blaisdale convinced them to send me instead...seeing as we've worked together before."  
  
"Great." Harm muttered. "They know I work alone."  
  
"Not this time cowboy. They felt you needed a wife to keep you in line. Who better than me?" Beth said with a smile and a wink. "So what name are we checked in under?"  
  
"Jason Roberts." Harm said simply.  
  
"Here." Beth said as she pulled a ring out of her pocket and tossed it to him. "Need to look the part." She added, holding up her own hand to show a matching band.  
  
After sliding the ring onto his finger Harm just sat there thinking. How did this affect the op? What plans would he have to change? For now they just wanted him to tail the four men and make note of who they contacted and when...but that could change.  
  
"Any changes to the mission?" he asked Beth after thinking for a few minutes.  
  
"Not that I know of. They packed me up and whisked me onto the first plane to Spain they could find. Why are you so grumpy?"  
  
"I'm not grumpy, I just don't like having things changed half way through an op."  
  
"Yeah right. Come on 'sweetie' this is me we're talking about. I know when you're grumpy." Beth said with a wink.  
  
"Don't worry about it. I'll be fine." Harm said rubbing his temples. The headaches had started again the day before and he knew they'd only get worse. Lack of sleep was partly to blame; he got them every time he was on an op that lasted more than a few days.  
  
"Headaches?" Beth asked softly as she moved around behind Harm and started to give him a shoulder massage.  
  
"Just not sleeping well lately is all." Harm tried to dismiss it.  
  
"The way I hear it is that you don't sleep well period." Beth said softly.  
  
"I sleep fine."  
  
"Yeah right...after a case of beer and a bottle of scotch?" Beth said, an edge to her voice.  
  
"Beth..." Harm said with a warning tone. As much as he wanted to give in to the soothing touch of her hands on his shoulders, he couldn't let himself. He couldn't be weak; he needed to be strong...to be hard. Shrugging off her hands, he stood up and took a couple of steps away from her.  
  
"Harm...I'm just worried about you. I've seen how you've been drinking lately. Well lately as in the last time I saw you because you don't call anyone or do anything when you're not in the field except fly. And drink."  
  
"We don't have time to talk about this...we need to get back downstairs and see if any of our guys have returned." Harm said harshly.  
  
Just then Harm's phone rang again. What the hell was this? A party line? Flipping it open he pushed the connect button hard. "What?"  
  
"Ghost...so nice to hear your voice." A familiar voice said tauntingly.  
  
"Spider. What the fuck do you want?"  
  
"Be nice." Harm heard Beth whisper with a little laugh.  
  
"Just wanted to make sure your wife got there alright?"  
  
"She's here. Want to talk to her?"  
  
"No that's okay. I'm also supposed to let you know that you need to get us copies of those papers we discussed."  
  
"Is that a fact." Harm said quietly. If Webb was calling shots on this op things were not going to look good.  
  
"That is a fact Ghost. Send the copies to the usual location." Webb said cheerfully. "I'll give Sarah your best...ta ta for now."  
  
As Webb disconnected the call, there was a knock at Harm's door. Looking at Beth, Harm shook his head...he wasn't expecting anyone. Stepping cautiously to the door, he called out, "Who is it?"  
  
"Room service, sir."  
  
"We didn't order any room service."  
  
"Its compliments of Mr. Araña, sir." The heavily accented voice replied.  
  
"Spider." Harm said with a bitter laugh. Reaching out he opened the door quickly and then stepped back. A slender man with dark hair and a thin moustache pushed a room service cart into the room.  
  
Silently the man stepped away from the cart and then waited patiently. Trust Webb to send someone who wanted a tip for dropping something off. Reaching into his pocket Harm pulled out 2000 Pesetas and handed over the bills.  
  
"My thanks Mr. Roberts." The man said with a slight bow before turning to leave. Harm still looked around for Bud when people addressed him as Mr. Roberts. Thinking of Bud brought Harm's thoughts around to Harriet and the boys as well. He should probably get something in the mail for little AJ, and maybe even something for Jimmy. Jimmy was still pretty young for gifts, but someday his parents might explain.  
  
Beth stepped up beside him and lifted the tray from the platter on the cart. Underneath they saw a small micro-laptop computer case and another cell phone between two small silenced handguns. Sigs, just what Webb liked. Figured.  
  
Picking up the note that was taped to the micro-laptop, Harm scanned it quickly and then handed it to Beth.  
  
_ Both the phone and the micro are encrypted. Use them to send the files. There's a cable for the laptop in the case. – CW_  
  
Well at least he was armed now...he'd wondered why it had taken them so long to get him equipment. Now he knew that this mission wasn't exactly well planned. Taking up the handgun Harm checked the magazine to make sure that it was loaded and then slid it home again. Putting the handgun in his waistband he felt somewhat better.  
  
"So...I guess we should figure out what we're going to do next." Harm said absently as he put the phone and computer on the bed.  
  
"Well apparently we need to get some papers and send them to Webb?" Beth asked in some confusion. Apparently they hadn't told her much before sending her out. Harm pushed down the rage that he felt towards Kershaw and Webb and anyone else who would send an agent into the field without proper intelligence.  
  
"File actually...from their computer. Webb hasn't actually told me anything specific so I'm thinking we should just send anything we find that looks suspicious."  
  
"Alright, that's a start. When are we going to do it?"  
  
"Well..." Harm said looking at his watch. "It almost time for two of them to go for a second lunch. They never go anywhere all together...usually, two go out and two stay in. If we could get them out of the room somehow..."  
  
"No...no way am I going to hit on some goon again so you can get in and get out." Beth said as she crossed her arms and tapped her foot.  
  
"Suck it up O'Neil. If that's what we need to get this done, you'll take your shirt off." Harm said harshly.  
  
Beth stopped her pacing suddenly and just stared at Harm. He'd never been rude to her before...she always remembered him as being joking and polite but lately she remembered him as sullen and quiet. She'd meant what she told him when she'd said that if there was a man who'd tempt her to change her ways it would be him. But he wasn't that man anymore...over the last year he'd changed...he'd become hard, harsh and bitter. She couldn't really blame him for the bitter part of things...from what she'd heard, he'd gone through a lot for his friend Mac and gotten a boot to the teeth for his troubles. He'd also opened up to her one night after too many beers about his arrest on suspicion of murdering Lieutenant Lauren Singer. Not one of his friends had come to visit him, even his CO had just assumed he was guilty and took steps to distance the office from Harm. But that didn't explain the hard and harsh part of the equation...what had happened to the pilot and friend she'd made when he first started flying for the company? What happened to the lawyer who saw beyond what she was to who she was and defended her against spurious charges so zealously? Beth was determined to find out. 


	10. Chapter 9

** A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 9_  
  
Harm sat in the lobby of the hotel pretending to read a paper while he waited for Beth to make an appearance. It had taken them all of twenty minutes to come up with what they both felt was a workable plan; of course it helped that Harm had managed to get rooms in the same hotel as the suspects. Now he was just waiting for Beth to find, comma and change into, comma a hotel uniform so that they could put the second part of the plan in motion. Looking over the edge of his paper he saw Beth walk out of a supply room and nod slightly in his direction. After she'd gotten onto the elevators, Harm slowly stood and walked towards the elevators while folding his paper.  
  
Getting off on the third floor, Harm looked down the hall to see Beth standing a few doors down from the terrorists' room. Quickly Harm found a small utility closet and piled a bunch of paper in a spare trashcan. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a matchbook. Striking a match, he dropped it in the can and left, carefully leaving the door propped open a little. For this plan to work, people needed to be able to smell the smoke. Looking around to avoid observers, Harm moved over to a fire alarm handle. Using part of the newspaper as a barrier to prevent leaving fingerprints, he pulled on it quickly. Instantly the harsh sound of warning klaxons filled the air. Glancing around the corner, Harm saw Beth knocking on doors and calling out, "¡Fuego! Salgense del edificio immediatamente!"  
  
As the hotel patrons started rushing from their rooms in panic, Beth got to the door of the terrorists' rooms. Knocking and calling out she only had to wait a moment before one of them slowly opened the door and peered out. Seeing everyone else running down the hall he called back in to someone else in the room and then the two men were joining the human rush for the stairs. As soon as they were on the stairs, comma Harm pushed into the press of people and made his way to where Beth was standing near the terrorists door.  
  
"Okay, they're out. Got the key?" Harm asked Beth.  
  
With a wink Beth pulled out a master key and slid it through the maglock. With a quiet click the door opened slightly and Beth pushed it open the rest of the way. Quickly they made their way into the room to search for the computer.  
  
"You take the bedroom, I'll look out here." Harm said, closing the door to muffle the sounds of the klaxons.  
  
Harm immediately started going through cabinets and drawers looking for a laptop. After about five minutes he heard Beth call out "Got it!" Closing the cabinet he was looking in, he went into the bedroom to get started. Pulling out the micro-laptop from his jacket pocket, he looked to where Beth was setting up a laptop. "Have they got a network port on that thing?" he asked.  
  
"Check." Beth replied with a smile. It was getting harder and harder to smile all the time around Harm; he was always so serious now.  
  
Pulling the crossover cable from the micro's case Harm handed one end to Beth and plugged the other end into the micro. Flipping open the tiny computer, Harm started the boot sequence and waited. Once it was finished loading the operating system, Harm opened the network interface, the laptop Beth had fired up was now on his screen. Double clicking on the icon, he began searching the files. He'd been given a crash course in computers that built on his everyday knowledge, but it was still slow going sorting through all of the files to find what he was looking for. At first he thought of transferring everything over to the micro-laptop but he soon realized it would take much much longer than they had. He needed to find documents, pictures, anything suspicious.  
  
Just as he was starting to browse a new folder Harm heard something from the outer room. "Beth..." he whispered anxiously.  
  
"I heard...sounded like the door..." she answered just as quietly, then stood up, setting the laptop down on the bed.  
  
Harm tossed his computer on the bed next to the laptop Beth had just put down. Moving away from the bed, Harm scanned the room to get an idea of what ground he was fighting on. A chair next to him could prove difficult if he wasn't careful, and he needed to stay away from the other furniture as well.  
  
"I'm going to go check it out." Beth said as she drew her Sig from a uniform pocket.  
  
"Wait Beth..." Harm started as Beth moved into the outer room. As he moved to follow her, he heard a low cry followed by a muffled thump.  
  
Pulling his Sig, Harm cautiously moved into the room, his gun held low and near his body. He spotted a swarthy man with an evil grin standing over a crumpled Beth. Harm had just enough time to place him as one of the four men he'd been following when a sharp pain in his arm caused him to drop his pistol. Looking to his left, Harm saw another of the terrorists moving in on him with arms extended and hands flexing. Without conscious thought, Harm closed with the man and landed a solid blow against the man's ribs. He then tried to thrust his knee into the man's groin, hitting the inside of his attacker's thigh rather than the more sensitive area he was aiming for.  
  
The two of them fell to the floor as the man closed his arms around Harm's shoulders and sought to bear him down. Struggling to keep his arms free, Harm landed a few more blows as the man tried to get a firm hold on Harm's arms. Savagely Harm kept hitting the man in the places he knew instinctively would cause the most pain while trying to regain his feet and height advantage. Suddenly, Harm broke free of the man's clutching hands and jumped to his feet. Quickly Harm moved in and wrapped his arm around the terrorist's neck as he tried to stand up. Increasing the pressure he was putting on the man's throat, Harm whispered harshly, "you can't kill a ghost." Then with a savage jerk, he felt the man's neck snap under his arm. Dropping his victim, Harm glanced over at Beth struggling against the larger and heavier terrorist. Dropping to his knee Harm snatched up his pistol, and with a quick look, squeezed off a shot at the remaining terrorist, hitting him between the eyes, killing him instantly.  
  
With a glance around the room, Harm made sure there was no one else lurking. Swiftly he moved over to where Beth was struggling to stand under the weight of the dead body on top of her. Grabbing the shirt of the one time terrorist, Harm hauled the corpse off of his partner and offered her his hand.  
  
"Grab the laptop and the rest of the stuff. We'll just take it with us...Webb can have one of his techno-geeks find what they need." Harm said as he moved towards the door.  
  
"Where are you going?" Beth asked hesitantly.  
  
"To find a laundry cart...we need to dispose of these." Harm answered with a gesture at the two dead bodies.  
  
Two minutes later he returned pulling one of the large laundry carts the hotel cleaning staff used and began the process of placing the bodies inside the cart. Realizing it was taking Beth much too much time to return, Harm walked over by the doorway to check on her. Beth was standing frozen by the bed, staring at the two laptops still connected to each other.  
  
"Snap out of it O'Neil. Focus on the job...you can fall apart later." He said with a quiet callousness.  
  
"What? Oh...yeah the job...the job...we need to find the files." Beth said hesitantly.  
  
"O'Neil...pack up the computers and then we're getting the hell out of here."  
  
"Won't they notice it's gone?"  
  
"Yeah, but hopefully they'll also notice their friends are gone and assume the wrong thing." Harm said struggling to push the now incredibly heavy laundry cart out of the room. He shoved it down the hall and pushed it into one of the many utility closets before taking one of the towels he'd found inside the cart and wiping it down. Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket he dialed Webb's number.  
  
"Webb."  
  
"Spider...we're screwed. The cat is out of the bag." Harm said simply.  
  
"What do you need?"  
  
"There are a couple of stiffs in the utility closet on the third floor. I need someone to come clean it up. Ma and pa are leaving the building."  
  
"Right." Webb said and then broke the connection.  
  
Putting his phone in his pocket Harm saw Beth walk out of the room with a laptop case over her shoulder. Looking at her closely he saw that she had a grim determination in her eyes. Good...she'd get the job done. Quickly, Harm joined her taking the stairwell down to the main floor. Hurriedly, Harm led Beth into the kitchen and out one of the delivery doors. They would have to have Webb come up with a way for them to check out of the hotel. Thankfully they both traveled light and didn't leave much behind. Webb's sweepers would take care of that as well.  
  
An hour later they were checked into a new hotel as Mr. and Mrs. Bellamy. Harm was working on the computer while Beth took a shower. A knock at the door caused Harm to look up and grab his pistol from where it was sitting beside him. Moving softly to the door, he looked out the peephole and saw Webb of all people.  
  
Opening the door Harm waited until Webb had entered and then closed it again. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"Just wanted to let you know that everything is taken care of at your other hotel...Mr. Roberts has checked out and your luggage has been removed. What luck did you have with the computer?" Webb said as he looked with disdain at the shabby interior of the hotel room.  
  
"It's over there." Harm said gesturing to where he'd set up the laptop. He hadn't been having much luck because most of the files were in Arabic.  
  
"You took their laptop? Damn it Rabb, you weren't supposed to take their laptop. Now they're going to know we're onto them." Webb said angrily, then moved over to the laptop.  
  
"Relax Spider...I didn't have a choice. Two of them walked in on us...the two who were coming back from lunch. I had to take them out and then we needed to get out of there...you didn't tell me the fucking files would be in Arabic."  
  
"We didn't think you needed to know that." Webb said absently as he looked over the laptop's contents.  
  
"Well obviously it would have helped. You can't help but fuck up can you Spider?"  
  
"I didn't shoot two of the terrorists, nor did I tip my hand that we were onto them." Webb retorted.  
  
"You little shit...I should..." Harm said angrily moving towards Webb with a purpose.  
  
"Oh relax Ghost. We'll make do with this somehow." Webb said as he snapped the laptop closed and slid it into the travel case. "I'll have the guys in tech look at it when I get back to Langley."  
  
"I'll relax when you get us the hell out of here. When do Beth and I leave?"  
  
"Tomorrow...here are your tickets." Webb said pulling an envelope out of the inside breast pocket of his suit jacket. "Enjoy your last night as a married couple!" he added with a wink.  
  
Taking the envelope and tossing it on the bed Harm had just started to turn away when Webb added "Well I really must go...I'm supposed to meet Sarah for breakfast tomorrow. Shall I give her your best?"  
  
Suddenly the action of the day and all the conflicting emotions he tried to keep inside boiled to the top and Harm swung back towards Webb unloading a right hook to the spy's jaw. Watching as Webb fell to the floor, Harm stepped closer and growled "Get up you little shit..."  
  
"Harm!" Beth called as she dashed from the bathroom drapped in a towel. She wrapped her still wet arms around him to try and keep him off Webb. "He's not worth it partner."  
  
As Webb picked himself back up he glared at Harm. "You're through Rabb...I'll see that you are!"  
  
"Get out of here Webb!" Beth shouted at the spy as he rubbed his jaw.  
  
After Webb had stormed out taking the computer with him, Beth slowly lowered her arms from holding Harm. "Shower's all yours." She said with a weak smile.  
  
"Thanks." Harm mumbled then moved towards the bathroom.  
  
Half an hour later Harm was back out of the bathroom wearing only his pants. Beth looked up when she heard the bathroom door open and tried not to sigh when she saw Harm moving towards the minibar.  
  
"Whatcha doing Harm?" she asked.  
  
"Getting a drink...you want one?" he answered while looking in the little fridge to see what kind of miniature bottles he had to work with.  
  
"Ummm. No thanks, Harm...I think I'll wait until we're back in the states. Maybe you should too."  
  
"Maybe you should mind your own damn business O'Neil." Harm answered callously as he pulled out a couple of bottles and started mixing a drink in one of the shallow glasses provided by the hotel. Quickly downing the mixture he looked back in the fridge and didn't see anything that caught his eye. Slamming the fridge door he stalked off towards one of the cheap oversized chairs swearing to himself under his breath.  
  
"You okay Harm?" Beth asked quietly.  
  
"Just terrific. Look, I'm tired, it's been a long day. You take the bed, I'll sleep here." Harm said as he flopped down in the chair stretching his long legs out before him.  
  
"You sure Harm? We're both adults...I think we can share a bed without you tempting me to change my lifestyle." Beth said with a grin trying to cheer her partner up.  
  
"I'm fine here." Harm said stubbornly. "No offense Beth...I don't sleep much so the chair will be fine. Take the bed."  
  
"Alright." Beth said quietly as she turned off the light. Rolling over Beth closed her eyes and listened to Harm thrash about in the chair trying to get comfortable. Wondering if he would ever find comfort in the chair, she started to drift off to sleep and soon let her eyes close.  
  
"NO! You bastard...get away from her! I'm going to rip your head off and piss down your neck!" Harm's cry woke Beth from her sleep. She had no idea how long she'd been asleep and she jumped up looking around the room for an assailant. Instead she dimly saw Harm thrashing in his chair.  
  
"I'm sorry." Harm said in a pleading tone. "I'm so sorry."  
  
"Harm?" Beth said quietly stepping up beside him.  
  
"No...please...I'll tell you anything...just don't hurt her...." Harm said through choked sobs. Beth was shocked to hear the words from him and realized he must be having a nightmare.  
  
Reaching down she shook her partner's shoulder softly. "Harm...wake up. It's just a nightmare partner. Harm?"  
  
After Beth shook him a little more Harm suddenly jumped out of his chair and looked around wildly. Seeing Beth standing there with concern in her eyes he collapsed back into the chair and placed his head in his hands. Peering through the near darkness it took Beth a moment to realize that his shoulders were shaking. Kneeling down beside him she wrapped her arms around his shoulder. "Shhh. It's okay partner. It's okay Harm." She spoke softly. This close to him she could hear his quiet sobs as he shook.  
  
Pulling gently, Beth gathered Harm into her arms, not really expecting him to return the embrace. She knew he had been attracted to her, and might even still be, but she also knew that he had at first talked often about his old partner Sarah MacKenzie. He didn't talk about her anymore, but Beth had a suspicion who the 'her' in his nightmare had been. And she'd be willing to put money on it not being Beth O'Neil.  
  
"Come on Harm." Beth said softly as she guided him up and over to the bed.  
  
"Beth..." Harm choked out between sobs.  
  
"Shhh. You don't need to say anything Harm. Just lie down on the bed and go back to sleep. I'm here partner."  
  
Laying down on the bed, Beth pulled Harm towards her and rocked back and forth gently repeating, "Shhh. It's okay." After awhile she felt Harm's sobbing stop and then his breathing became more regular. Stroking his hair in the dark Beth thought about how nice this felt. Closing her eyes she drifted off to sleep with Harm in her arms and the memory of his cries in her mind. 


	11. Chapter 10

** A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 10_  
  
It had been a week since he returned from Spain, and Webb's threat of him being 'done' had garnered nothing. Harm had been in the office at the time Webb asked Kershaw to fire him. In the middle of being debriefed, Harm simply stormed out. Kershaw just shook his head and made some comment about childish rivalries.  
  
Beth had called nineteen times so far this week asking to get together, but Harm just couldn't face her, not after that night. He couldn't believe that he let her see him so weak, so out of control. Funny, no matter what he did he ended up in a job where control was everything, in the air, in the courtroom, and now in the deep dark spook world.  
  
Harm shook his head and looked down at the carved figures on the bed before him. Toys that he had brought back for AJ and his brother Jimmy...toys for AJ's party, which according to the message Harriet left on his answering machine, was happening today. Ever since that fiasco in Iraq, people at JAG had renewed their telephone campaign requesting he contact them. Bud and Harriet weren't too bad, the worst were Mac and Sturgis. In a twisted sort of way, he thought that made sense. After all it was Mac and Sturgis he saw in Iraq, not Bud and Harriet. They were just going on rumors, while Mac and Sturgis knew he was around.  
  
He should just mail these, hire a courier to take them over today. He shouldn't go...there was nothing there for him. What would he do? Swap office stories with Bud and Sturgis? Oh...you're working on a sexual harassment court-martial? Interesting....me? Oh I killed six terrorists in the last month...month before that was up to seventy from what I'm told. Broke a guy's neck last week and shot his friend between the eyes. Why? Oh...that's need to know guys.  
  
Of course they'd look at it like he's doing his part in defending his country from terrorists, but deep down they'd feel the way Mac did. They'd look at him the same way. He couldn't think about how Mac looked at him in that café in Iraq.  
  
The ringing of the phone pulled him away from his thoughts. With a quick decision he stood and walked down the stairs to the living room but let the phone ring. Eventually his machine picked up.  
  
_"This is Rabb, I'm not available right now but if you leave a message I'll get back to you when I can."_ He heard his own voice say, in a much too cheerful tone.  
  
_"Harm...it's Harriet. I just wanted to phone and confirm that AJ's party is today at fourteen hundred...I mean two o'clock. Also someone here wants to say something to you."_ Harm heard Harriet's voice over the speaker of the answering machine.  
  
_"Unca Harm? Mommy, he's not there." _He heard little AJ say.  
  
_"It's ok sweetie...he'll hear what you say...go ahead." _Harriet said gently to her son.  
  
_"Unca Harm....you comin to my party? I'm five today and I want my unca Harm here. Mommy said you can...can't be here, but mebbe if I ask you'll come? Please unca Harm?" _AJ's plaintive little voice said over the speaker.  
  
_"Remember Co...Harm...it's at two o'clock." _Harriet said into the answering machine and then he heard the thing click off as she hung up.  
  
Cursing Harm sunk down into his couch and lowered his head to his hands. Couldn't they see he was trying to protect them? Trying to save them the hurt that would inevitably come from knowing him again? Why did they keep trying to invite him back into their lives? Their lives; her life wasn't a place for him anymore.  
  
With a deep sigh Harm moved back into his bedroom where he finished wrapping AJ's gifts. He wasn't looking forward to seeing anyone that was going to be at the party...not even his godson. As much as he wanted to, Harm just couldn't think that AJ would be happy to see him. It had been almost a year since he'd seen the little guy, and children can pick up on the feelings of those around them without knowing how they did it. There was no doubt that AJ would be a mirror of what the Admiral, Bud and Harriet, Mac, Sturgis, and Jennifer were all feeling. That Harm had left them...that he'd turned his back on them all.  
  
Putting the gifts on the table by the door, Harm walked into the kitchen. Maybe a beer would help his mood; it couldn't hurt. Reaching into the fridge Harm pulled out a bottle and cracked it. With a sigh he took a long swallow from it and then set the bottle on the counter. Was this what his life had come down to? Cutting himself out of the lives of those who cared for him? He couldn't even remember the last time he'd talked to his mother or Frank. Beth and Allison where the only contact he had with other people outside work...and after the incident in Spain, he was in the process of cutting himself out of their lives now as well. He'd let his guard down, had gotten too close, and now Beth had seen him at his weakest. He couldn't be reminded of that when he needed to focus on a job. Well, no one ever promised him that being a spy would bring lots of friendship and comfort. Picking up the beer Harm took another pull from the bottle.  
  
The ring of his phone penetrated the fog of Harm's thoughts, when the machine picked up he heard Webb's voice on the speaker.  
  
_"Ghost. Be at the office at noon tomorrow."_  
  
Well, that was something at least. After a week he was itching to go back out, somewhere; anywhere. He wondered what the assignment would be this time. Setting his now empty beer bottle down on the table, he walked over to grab the gifts for AJ. He would view this as an assignment, nothing more. It was an op to him; get in, deliver the gifts, and get out. Hell maybe he could even get in and get out without anyone seeing him. That way he wouldn't have to speak to anyone else and save them, and him, the pain such a conversation would surely cause.  
  
An hour later Harm pulled his bike up a block away from the Roberts' house. He saw a lot of cars he recognized, and a few he didn't. After he killed the engine and got off the bike Harm undid the straps holding AJ's presents to the back of his seat. Taking the wrapped boxes in hand, he slowly started towards the house. He wasn't sure how many times during that short walk he was almost overcome with the desire to turn around and leave, but he couldn't. Not this time. Walking past the Admiral's SUV, Sturgis' car, Mac's corvette, and Bud and Harriet's van, Harm finally reached the front porch. Listening at the door he could hear sounds of the party drifting from the backyard, but nothing from inside the house. Good, maybe he could pull this off. Quietly, Harm opened the front door and stepped inside. Careful to keep away from rooms with window views to the backyard, Harm reached the dining room where Harriet always kept the colorfully wrapped boxes that everyone brought for the birthday boy. Setting his own boxes down on the table with the others, Harm's eyes were drawn to one gift that bore a card with Mac's unmistakable handwriting on it.  
  
Harm was suddenly hit with the realization that this was AJ's fifth birthday. It had been five years since he and Mac had made their deal on the front steps of JAG Headquarters. Well, Harm figured he wasn't in any serious relationships, unless you count his job or his weapons, but word was that Mac and Webb were getting pretty serious. With a sigh Harm moved to the edge of the doorway leading into the kitchen to see if he could see her out in the backyard. Just one look and then he'd go he promised himself.  
  
Suddenly he saw her, standing with the Admiral and Bud as they watched AJ play with his friends. Her hair was down, and was even longer than he thought it was when he saw her in Iraq. The way it framed her face caused his breath to catch; if possible she was even more beautiful every time he saw her. And she would never be his, would never know why he disappeared. She could never know. Slowly Harm forced himself to turn away. It was then that he realized that there was dampness on his cheeks.  
  
Reaching up he was in the process of wiping the silent tears away when he heard a glass hit the floor and shatter. "Commander! Harm! You made it. Oh AJ will be just thrilled."  
  
Damn it, he had to stop and watch Mac didn't he? Why couldn't he just get in, drop the gifts off, and leave like he planned? Turning, Harm nodded to Harriet where she stood looking down at the broken glass on the floor and up at him. "Hello Harriet."  
  
"Harmon Rabb. Is that the best you can do? 'Hello Harriet'? I haven't seen you in almost a year and all you say is hello? Give me a hug!" Harriet stepped over the broken glass before Harm could react.  
  
Stepping out of Harriet's embrace Harm nodded to the broken glass. "I'll clean that up before any of the kids come in." Harm said nervously.  
  
Harriet was shocked when Harm didn't return her hug, stepping away as fast as he could. Blinking she just nodded as he crouched down to pick up the glass.  
  
"Harriet, sweetie I heard something break. Are you o...Commander!" Bud said as he walked into the kitchen from the backyard.  
  
Standing up with the larger pieces of glass in his hand Harm nodded coolly at his younger friend. "Bud. And it's Harm now. Garbage can?" he asked holding up the glass.  
  
"Right over there, sir. Would you like something to drink Harm?" Bud asked nervously. He'd seen Harm closed off before, but never like this. And something had obviously happened before he came in because Harriet looked close to tears.  
  
"Not unless you've got beer." Harm said absently as he dropped the glass into the garbage can. As his own words echoed in his head Harm cursed himself silently.  
  
"Uhhh...we've got root beer, sir." Bud nervously held up a can from the counter.  
  
"That's alright Bud...I should probably get going anyway." Harm looked down as he scuffed his foot along the floor.  
  
"But you just got here, sir." Harriet said in a hurry. "Everyone would love to see you."  
  
"I'm not so sure about that Harriet..." Harm shrugged his shoulders as the screen door opened behind him. He knew she was there even before she said anything.  
  
"Harriet, AJ wants some more...." Mac suddenly stopped as she caught site of the man in the kitchen with Harriet and Bud.  
  
"Hi Mac." Harm didn't even turn around when he said it.  
  
"Bud grab those cans, we should get this stuff outside again." Harriet poked her husband in the ribs to get his attention.  
  
"Uhh right honey." Bud picked up the indicated cans. "Sir, ma'am."  
  
"Bud, Harriet." Harm nodded slightly as they left.  
  
"You made it." Mac said quietly as she walked through the kitchen to stand in front of Harm.  
  
"It was a mistake. I was just going to leave." Harm nervously cracked the knuckles on his right hand.  
  
"But you haven't seen AJ yet." Mac pleaded. She hated that he'd reduced her to pleading with him.  
  
"I don't know if that would be a good idea, Mac."  
  
"Why not? All day he's been asking where you are, when you're getting here. He told me Harriet let him leave a message on your machine...well not in so many words, but you know..." Mac knew she was rambling. What was it about this man that made her do that.  
  
"I know. I was there."  
  
"Why didn't you pick up when they called?"  
  
"It's easier not to."  
  
"It's easier to what? Not talk to your friends? Make them worry about you? Make me cry at night?"  
  
"Easier to keep you all out of my world. You don't want to be in my world Mac...it's not a nice place to be. Fuck! I knew I should have sent these presents by courier."  
  
"Harmon Rabb! Watch your language, there are children around." Mac scolded him. Inside she was shocked at his language again. First in Iraq, now here. Mac had never heard Harm swear before.  
  
Before Harm could reply the screen door was thrown open and a blond tornado came running into the kitchen. "UNCA HARM!" AJ screamed as he wrapped his arms around Harm's legs.  
  
Biting his lip Harm looked down at his godson for a moment before finally steeling himself to pick the child up. "Hey buddy." He greeted the boy quietly.  
  
"Where you been unca Harm? I was four when I saw you."  
  
"And now you're five, aren't you buddy?"  
  
"Uh-huh. I missed you unca Harm." AJ said as he wrapped his arms around Harm's neck in a hug.  
  
"Well I missed you too buddy." Harm fought the tears he felt building up in his eyes. He couldn't give in, he needed to get away.  
  
Setting AJ down on the ground Harm crouched down so he could look him in the eyes. "Listen buddy...I have to get going. I just wanted to say Happy Birthday to my favorite sailor." Harm fought the break he felt forming in his voice. Biting his lip he did his best to smile for AJ but knew it was a poor attempt.  
  
"Why unca Harm? I have to open presents still." AJ said with confusion in his voice.  
  
"I need to go to work buddy."  
  
"Why? Mommy and daddy are here, aunt Mac is here, grandpa is here. Why do you have to work when they're here?"  
  
"I don't work with them anymore buddy. I work for some other people now."  
  
"I don't like them." AJ stamped his little foot.  
  
"Neither do I." Mac knelt down and wrapped AJ in a hug as she looked up at Harm with her beautiful brown eyes. "AJ sweetie, why don't you go play with your friends?"  
  
"I want to see unca Harm."  
  
"I need to talk to your uncle Harm honey. Please go play with your friends?"  
  
"Okay aunt Mac." AJ agreed reluctantly. When he got to the screen door he turned to look at the adults in the kitchen. "I love you unca Harm. I love you aunt Mac."  
  
"We love you too sailor." Mac said softly. When AJ was gone she turned back to look at Harm. "Why would you walk away from that?"  
  
With a snort Harm looked at Mac incredulously. "I didn't walk away; I just found myself alone."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
"Oh come on, don't play that game with me Mac. As I told the Admiral, I didn't leave. JAG left me behind."  
  
"When did you talk to the Admiral?" Mac asked in shock. She was sure the Admiral would have told her if he'd spoken with Harm. She asked him every day.  
  
"Before my last op." Harm waved absently. "Look, the point is, I found a new life when I was forced to."  
  
"How can you say that? Forced to?"  
  
"Whatever. Mac, go back outside with your friends. Have fun, enjoy the party. I need to get going and I don't have time to argue with you."  
  
"Why what's so important? Got a hot date?" she asked sarcastically.  
  
"No. Look Mac, you don't want me around, you don't know what's happened to me."  
  
"I would if you told me." Mac replied angrily.  
  
"You wouldn't understand. Damn it Sarah, I'm not who I was. I've become one of the lost."  
  
Mac almost let out a small cry when he used her given name. He rarely used it and when he did her heart skipped a beat. No man had ever said her name the way he did. "One of the what?"  
  
"Why don't you ask Webb about that? He likes to try and pull my strings." Harm turned away and strode over to the door leading to the main hallway. "Go outside, be with Webb, be with your friends. Goodbye Sarah."  
  
With his last words echoing in her mind Mac rushed out to the hallway to find the front door still standing open. Stepping out onto the front porch she saw him walking down the street to his motorcycle. Before she could move he'd pulled on the helmet and fired up the engine. Without a glance in her direction he was gone, driving off down the street. "I'm not with Webb." she breathed as she watched him drive off once more. 


	12. Chapter 11

A/N: OK its short, but its a reaction chapter to the last one. I figured I needed to get it out before someone hunted me down for a lynching. Speaking of which...shippers...don't give up hope yet! And please...please please put the rope down...  
**  
A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 11_  
  
Mac stood upon the porch silently watching the street that Harm had so downheartedly ridden off on. She had no idea how long she stood there before she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up she saw the Admiral standing beside her.  
  
"It's true then? Harm was here?" he asked softly.  
  
"He was, sir." Mac answered sadly.  
  
"It's his choice Mac, we can't make him stay when he doesn't want to."  
  
"I think he wanted to, sir. Or at least he was starting to. I could see it when he held AJ, he still cares. I saw it in his eyes; I saw the pain in his eyes. Why did he leave Admiral?" Mac asked plaintively.  
  
"He doesn't want us to see how much he's hurting Colonel. You know that Harm is a proud man, he always has been. He's made his choice." The Admiral replied after a moment's thought.  
  
"He said that you went to talk to him before his last op, Admiral. Why didn't you tell me?" Mac practically hissed as she rounded on the Admiral.  
  
"I didn't think it would be productive to tell you. Nothing resulted from my run in with Harm. In fact, I think I may have made things worse."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I think I opened old wounds. They may not have been fully healed but he had come to deal with them in his own way; and now they are fresh again."  
  
Quietly, the ex-SEAL stood next to his chief of staff and watched the emotions run across her face. He was not surprised that a year had not dimmed the love Mac felt for Harm. He was of the opinion that nothing could put out that fire. The naked emotions playing across her face surprised him though. Mac usually kept her emotions as close as Harm did; it was part of the reason the two were never able to admit to each other that they felt more than friendship. Patting her awkwardly on the shoulder, softly he said, "Come on Mac...let's get back to the party. AJ's going to open his gifts soon."  
  
As the Admiral turned and started to walk back up the steps to the house Mac stopped him suddenly. "What does it mean to be among the lost Admiral?"  
  
"What did you say?" he questioned her in shock.  
  
"To be among the lost. It's something Harm said before he left. That I didn't want to be in his world, that he was among the lost now. He told me to ask Webb, but seeing as I haven't really been on speaking terms with Webb for a couple months, I thought I'd ask you."  
  
Heavily Admiral Chegwidden sat down on the top step. To be among the lost. It had been years since he'd heard anyone refer to the lost, and he was hoping he never would have to again.  
  
"Admiral? You know what it means, don't you?" Mac pressed insistently.  
  
"I do." The Admiral answered quietly. "I haven't heard that term in a very long time. Not since '75."  
  
"What does it mean?"  
  
"It means he's given up Mac."  
  
"What's he given up Admiral?"  
  
"Hope. Faith. Take your pick. In Nam the CIA would put guys into the field, guys like Harm from what I understand. Their job was to operate behind enemy lines, away from our forces. They did the really dirty jobs; assassinations, strategic strikes and the like. The Company wasn't too concerned with how sane their choices were either, as long as they got the job done. Some of the guys were real basket cases; they enjoyed the work, a lot. Some were good men who'd shown an aptitude for the work and they were also good at the jobs that needed doing. But they paid a price. Every time they went out, they said it took a little more of their soul away."  
  
"What's this have to do with Harm?" Mac asked, standing in front of the Admiral with her hands on her hips.  
  
"He's like those good men who sold their soul a piece at a time. There comes a time when they've sold more than they should have, more than they can ever hope to get back. They lose hope of ever being redeemed for the evil they've committed in the name of their country. Some of those guys started calling themselves the lost; I guess someone at Langley has been telling stories of the good ol' days."  
  
"No sir, Harm would never, could never, I don't care what it looks like." Mac argued. She knew she shouldn't be talking to her CO like this, but she really didn't give a damn. She didn't like the sound of the phrase, and she wanted to know what this had to do with Harm.  
  
"Mac, maybe you should sit down." The Admiral suggested.  
  
"Tell me Admiral."  
  
Slowly the Admiral stood up and started to pace the porch. "Mac, a lot of those guys didn't come back from the jungle. Some just...disappeared. Others were confirmed KIA. They just kept going out into the field until they didn't come back, one way or the other."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because they were good men at one time Mac. And they knew what they had become; they knew there was no home for them anymore. The jungle was their home, or it was their grave."  
  
"I don't understand Admiral. Are you saying..."  
  
"I'm saying that I think Harm thinks he's not going to come home one day. He doesn't think he _can_ come home."  
  
"No....no. Admiral, you're wrong." Mac said hesitantly. "Harm wouldn't give up. Harm doesn't give up. Harm's the strongest man I know."  
  
"Mac. Listen to me Mac." The Admiral stopped his pacing and stepped up to put his hands on Mac's shoulders. "I know how strong and dogged Harm is. But you have to remember this isn't the Harm we've known for so long."  
  
"You're wrong Admiral. Harm is Harm." Mac shook her head violently. "Oh God. He doesn't want to come back, and its all my fault." She sighed heavily, raking her fingers through her hair and closing her eyes to hold back the tears.  
  
"It's not your fault Mac." The Admiral tried to calm the woman before him.  
  
"It's all my fault. I never told him how much I love him. I never let him hold me. I had to keep him away. I told him it wouldn't work between us." Mac whispered.   
  
"Did you really believe that Mac?"  
  
"I think maybe I wanted to. Or maybe I wanted to hear him tell me I was wrong, but he didn't. He just looked at me so sadly and then walked away. He walked out of my life because I didn't want to be the first to say it." Even with all her years of practiced military discipline Mac still couldn't stop her voice from trembling.  
  
"Mac it's not your fault. We can play the blame game all we want, but it won't bring him back. I think if we were to look closely, we'd see we all did something to hurt Harm. Damn it, I should have seen what it was doing to him; if anyone should have recognized it, I should have."  
  
"But I was his friend Admiral. I was supposed to be his best friend and I couldn't see how much he was hurting until he was gone." Mac couldn't stop the tears any longer. The memory of the pain and anger in Harm's eyes as he turned away from her was more than she could take.  
  
Admiral Chegwidden stood there holding Mac at a loss. He didn't know what to say or what to do anymore when it came to Harm. His conversation with Harm had shown him just how much Harm was blaming on the people at JAG, how much pain they had caused him. First the Singer murder investigation, then Sturgis and his damned sanctimonious mood swings, then Paraguay and everything that came with that. And apparently there was more between Mac and Harm than he knew. Silently he wondered how he could save a man who didn't want to be saved anymore. 


	13. Chapter 12

A/N It's a quick one, but someone (I'm not naming names) said they'd like to see a confrontation between Harm and Jen. That got the wheels turning and I churned this out with the always appreciated help of my mystery beta reader.  
**  
A Man Called Ghost**  
_  
Chapter 12_  
  
Harm poured himself another glassful of scotch. Looking at the bottle, he was shocked to see that it was almost gone, he could have sworn it was full ten minutes ago. In truth he'd been sitting at his table drinking for more than an hour since returning from AJ's birthday party. Normally he wouldn't be drinking this heavily in the afternoon; he usually warmed up to it so that he was drinking pretty hard to kill the nightmares just before he went to bed. But now he was locked in a nightmare; one he'd created by going to a place where he knew the people who thought they still cared for him were all gathered. Now the pain was back, like an infected wound, and he couldn't kill it; couldn't ignore it. With a bitter laugh at himself, Harm tossed back the glass of scotch and grabbed the bottle for more.  
  
Before Harm could pour another drink he was stopped by a knock at the door. Great, just what he needed, company. Well he was pretty sure it wouldn't be Webb; he and Webb weren't exactly on friendly terms anymore. It was probably Mac wanting to continue the 'discussion' from earlier. Well he'd just ignore it and if it was Mac, she'd use her key to come in, and if it wasn't her, they'd go away. Raising his glass in a mock toast towards the door, Harm tossed down another shot of scotch. Finally the pounding went away and he shrugged silently. Obviously not Mac then. As he was pouring his next drink Harm heard a slight scratching from the door and turned towards it in confusion. It didn't sound like a key in the lock, sounded more like...what? He knew that sound but his alcohol shrouded mind couldn't place it.  
  
Suddenly his door opened and Jennifer Coates stepped through putting two slender picks back into a leather pouch. "Sorry about that, but I think we needed to talk."  
  
"How'd you do that?" Harm managed to contain the slurring of his speech.  
  
"Skills acquired in a misspent youth, remember?"  
  
"Ah." Harm nodded. Looking at the bottle he was shocked to see less than a finger left. "I'd offer you something to drink, but I don't think you're staying."  
  
"See, that's where you'd be wrong." Jen said airily, as she flopped down on the couch. "Like I said, we need to talk."  
  
"Can't really see what we have to talk about." Harm shrugged pouring the rest of the scotch into his glass.  
  
Before he could down his drink Jen was up and standing at the table. Reaching out, she took the glass from his hand and sniffed at it. "Well at least you have good taste. Still doesn't make it any better though." She shook her head as she poured the scotch out on his floor.  
  
"HEY! What the fuck do you think you're doing Coates?" Harm thundered, lurching out of his chair.  
  
"I think I'm trying to have a conversation with someone who did me a favor once." Jen pulled out a chair and sat down across from where Harm had been sitting. "So, sit your ass down and talk to me."  
  
"You better watch your tone with me missie." Harm growled.  
  
"Or what? You'll court martial me? You can't do that Harm, you're not in the navy anymore."  
  
"What the hell do you want Coates?" Harm muttered as he dropped back down into his chair. As much as he wanted to be angry at the young woman, he just couldn't bring himself to fire the rage. It seemed that depression was today's emotion of the day.  
  
"Well sir, I was just curious to know if you realized what an ass you've become." Jen looked around at the apartment littered with the remains of past meals and empty bottles. "But apparently you've been a little busy to pick up on something that unimportant."  
  
"Look Coates, you don't know me anymore. You don't know what I have to live with."  
  
"No, I don't suppose I do. But I think the biggest reason for that is because you won't tell anyone. You won't talk to anyone, share with anyone. Hell you won't even say hi to anyone. I heard you were at AJ's birthday party; funny, I didn't see you there. And you know I asked the Admiral about that, and he said he didn't see you either, but that Colonel MacKenzie did. Problem was, she was too busy crying on the porch to tell me about that."  
  
"Just leave it alone Coates. You don't know what you're talking about."  
  
"No, I don't think I will leave it alone. You're the one who doesn't know what he's talking about." Coates stood up in a rage. "You don't see how much everyone worries about you, how scared we can all be. You didn't see the Colonel crying today."  
  
"I said leave it alone Coates." Harm shook his head savagely. "Just, leave it alone."  
  
"You know it's funny. When Lieutenant Commander Roberts lost his leg he was a little like this; well without all the empty bottles and the mess. Stubborn though, pig headed even, when he was wallowing in his self pity. He just didn't see how much he was hurting those around him until it was almost too late. Are you going to wait until it's too late?"  
  
"Well Bud always...wait, Bud got promoted?"  
  
"Oh you didn't know that? Of course, how could you? You don't care about what goes on at JAG anymore." Jen shrugged.  
  
"Now wait just a minute Coates! What the hell do you know about me?" Harm said in indignation. The nerve of this girl, to come in here and make accusations at him. "You think my life is all roses now? That I've found a happy place where I can sing and dance and forget everything that happened?"  
  
"Judging by how much I think you've been drinking from all these bottles, no, I'm guessing things aren't all rosy for you. But do you have any idea how much you're hurting those of us who care for you?" Jen looked at Harm pointedly.  
  
"Why do you think I tried to keep you all out of my life? Why do you think I've cut a hole in my heart?" Harm asked with emotion thick in his voice.  
  
"What makes you think that you haven't cut a hole out of all our hearts? You think we didn't notice when you just up and walked away from us all? That every day without you doesn't make the wound hurt that much worse?"  
  
"Wait a minute Coates. I didn't walk away; I looked up one day and you were all leaving me!"  
  
"That's bullshit and you know it Harm."  
  
"Really? What about Singer's death? You all thought that I did that. Every last one of you believed in your hearts that I killed her; that or you just didn't think I was worth visiting." Harm spat bitterly.  
  
"Oh that's rich Harm. We don't disobey orders and you think that means we didn't want to? Do you have any idea how much it tore us up not to be there for you? How much it tore up the Colonel? You want to take that up with anyone, take it up with the Admiral. His orders, not the Colonel's, not Lieutenant Commander Roberts, not Commander Turner's. The Admiral's."  
  
"Oh and I suppose that when I threw everything away to go after Mac and she didn't even bother saying thank you, I shouldn't have let that get to me. I FINALLY admit to her that I value her more than anything and what does she do? She turned to Webb. Webb of all fucking people!" Harm waved his arms in the air wildly.  
  
"I can't speak for the Colonel, Harm. That's something you'd need to take up with her, all I know is that there are a lot of people who still care for you who are hurting that you keep them out of your life. I should know sir, I'm one of them." Jen reached out to put her hand over his.  
  
Yanking his hand away from her, Harm fell out of his chair. Picking himself up unsteadily he glared at her. "I kill people Jen, lots of people. I couldn't tell you how many people I've killed; I lost count." Harm sneered trying to change tactics. If he couldn't chase her off, maybe he could scare her off.  
  
"We want to help, sir." Jen pressed, her determination unfeigned.  
  
"The best thing any of you can do to help me Coates is forget you ever knew me."  
  
"I don't think we can do that Harm; I know I can't. Look, a couple of years ago I would have walked away, no questions asked. But then something happened, something I wasn't looking for. Some guy believed in me; and in his believing in me, he forced me to believe in myself. He gave me a second chance at life, and at my career. And now you want me to walk away from my guardian angel? You want me to forget he ever lived? That's an insult Harm, not just to me, but to everyone you ever helped. I can't just forget Harm; you thawed out my heart and made a place for yourself there. I wouldn't want to forget you if I could Harm. I don't think anyone would."  
  
"I've done things you can't imagine Coates. The Harm you knew, you're guardian angel, he's not here anymore. Just a ghost who looks like him."  
  
"You know what? We're not getting anywhere with this. I'm not the one you need to be talking to, and we both know that." Coates said as she moved towards the door shaking her head.  
  
"Good. Go. Leave me." Harm said bitterly. At first he didn't want her there, but now that she was leaving he was hurt that she would go.  
  
"Oh I'm not leaving you sir. I'm just going to give you time to think. And by the way, I don't believe in ghosts." 


	14. Chapter 13

A/N Apologies for the delay in posting. Had some technical difficulties getting this to my BR last night. It is a bit longer than normal though, and I'm hoping to have 14 up fairly early tomorrow. Enjoy.  
**  
A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 13_  
  
"The target for this mission is located here." Webb said, as he indicated an aerial view of an industrial complex displayed on the wall.  
  
"And it would be?" Harm leaned back in his chair watching Webb give his briefing.  
  
"We have reason to believe this is where a terrorist faction is developing some sort of experimental weapon system."  
  
"And what do you want me to do about it?" Harm struggled to stifle a yawn. His encounter with Jen the day before had left him unable to sleep last night. He had sat up thinking about what had been said, and what had not been said. For the first night in a long time Harm didn't drink himself into a semi-conscious state.  
  
"I'm sorry we're boring you Rabb." Webb snapped bitterly. He was still sore about not getting Rabb fired when they'd gotten back from Spain. "Your job will be to infiltrate the facility, ascertain its function, and if it is indeed a development site for some kind of weapon, destroy it."  
  
"Yeah, sorry. I forgot my pocket sized tactical nuke in my other pants." Harm raised an eyebrow at Webb's cold description of his next op. "How do you expect me to take out something that big?"  
  
"I'm sure you'll be able to figure something out. After all you are the Ghost." Webb threw up his hands in exasperation.  
  
"You will be given a great deal of support on this one, Agent Rabb." Kershaw said from where he was sitting at the back of the room. "Our intelligence indicates that a number of strategically placed explosive devices will destroy the complex quite completely."  
  
"Well that makes it a little easier than 'go find something to destroy it with'. When do I leave?"  
  
"Don't you want to know the rest?" Webb sneered.  
  
"What else is there to know? It's a terrorist building. It is a threat to innocent people, and it needs to be destroyed."  
  
"Aren't you in the least bit curious which group it belongs to?"  
  
"If it was important you would have told me. Now when do I leave?"  
  
"What's wrong with you Rabb? You're the one who's always asking questions, always wanting to know more."  
  
"I don't need to know." Harm said hollowly. Ever since his argument with Coates he'd been thinking too much, had weakened too much. He needed to get out into the field, focus on a job. If he could focus on a job he could forget the thoughts of Mac, he could push them to the back of his head. He didn't want to think about Mac, couldn't think about her. Thinking about her made him remember the life he used to have, made the pain worse. "So when do I go?"  
  
"In two hours." Webb snapped. "An agent will meet you at Dulles with tickets. Your in-country contact will have your gear."  
  
"Good enough." Harm stood up and grabbed his leather jacket from the back of the chair where he'd tossed it. "See you on the flip side, boys."  
  
After Harm had left, Kershaw turned to look at his agent. "Are you sure he can handle this alone? Our latest intelligence indicates a high number of terrorists in and around the target area."  
  
"He's the Ghost, who are we to give him help." Webb said bitterly. It galled him that after only a year at the Company Rabb was respected by so many field agents. He'd never had that kind of respect even though he'd pulled off many operations that still couldn't be talked about. And that was just the professional aspect of his bitterness towards Harmon Rabb Jr.  
  
Personally, it didn't help any knowing when he'd been with Sarah, she'd always been thinking about Harm, worrying about her precious flyboy because she didn't know what he was doing or how he was. Harm was a constant cloud over his attempt to woo her. Unfortunately she still wasn't returning his calls after that incident in Iraq when she found out he knew exactly what Harm was up to and how he was doing. Absently, Webb reached up to rub the part of his jaw that Harm had punched while they were in Spain. He'd be damned if he was going to let Harm beat him this time. He'd get Sarah back, and he'd get even with Harm for all the embarrassment Harm had put him through. Even the junior agents were calling him Spider behind his back, and it was all Rabb's fault.  
  
An hour later Harm was walking through the doors of the departure terminal at Dulles airport. Looking around he spotted the young man wearing a dark suit, whose eyes darted nervously around the building.  
  
Walking up to the agent Harm forced himself not to laugh. "Hey kid. You should relax a little bit, people are going to think you're a pedophile or something."  
  
"Mr. Rabb?"  
  
"No, I'm actually Santa Claus on vacation." Harm rolled his eyes. He hated dealing with these young kids right out of college.  
  
"Mr. Webb said you'd think you're funny."  
  
"Oh, I'm sure he did. Got my tickets?"  
  
"Right here, sir. They just announced the final boarding of your flight." The young man said handing over a long envelope.  
  
"Its not supposed to leave for another hour." Harm reached out and grabbed the young man's arm before he could leave.  
  
"It leaves in twenty minutes. I suggest you get aboard." The kid said with a smirk.  
  
Harm knew there was no point in arguing with the young agent. Even if he hadn't mentioned Webb, Harm would have smelled Webb all over this. It would be just the thing Webb would do to embarrass him; how would it look if Harm missed his flight in country? With a muttered oath he looked at his ticket to see what gate he was boarding at and took off running through the terminal.  
  
He arrived at the gate just as the attendant there was preparing to close the door to the jetway. Handing over his tickets, comma Harm waited while the attendant checked them over and hurried him through the gate.  
  
When Harm was finally seated on the plane, it occurred to him to take out the tickets and look at where he was going. Not knowing had made it a bit of a challenge in the packing department, but Harm had found that good trekking clothes stood him in good stead when he wasn't sure where he was going. Lightweight, layerable and for the most part convertible. Well, well, well, looks like he was going to Iraq again. He'd been spending so much time in Iraq he might just have to look into buying property there. Stretching out, he slid the tickets back into his jacket pocket and tried to relax. It was going to be a long flight and he needed to get his head in the game. He couldn't think about the party or Jen's unannounced appearance at his apartment. Those things would take his mind off the mission and agents died when their minds wandered. Closing his eyes he tried to use a simple meditation technique one of the Brits had shown him.  
  
For the most part it didn't work, but he did manage to spend a lot of time thinking about what little he knew about this mission. Not getting more details from Webb and Kershaw was just plain stupid and he had no one to blame but himself. He was so damn eager to get back into the field, get back out somewhere where people were shooting at him, that he didn't bother following his own rules. The more he thought about what he did know, the odder things seemed. Why would they send in a single agent to destroy a whole facility? Sure it sounded like something James Bond or Jason Bourne would do, but those were just spook fairy tales. Maybe his contact would know more, perhaps a team was already in place waiting for him to arrive.  
  
Finally after sixteen hours and two transfers, the last to a military flight, Harm was once again in Iraq. A sergeant greeted him when he got off the transport and informed him that the base commander wished to see him. After escorting him to the base headquarters, the officer on duty was informed that this was the man the commander wished to see. No longer needed, the sergeant went on his way.  
  
"The Colonel will see you now, sir." The young lieutenant on duty announced.  
  
Walking into the Colonel's office Harm nodded politely to the air force colonel behind the desk.  
  
"Afternoon, sir. Thanks for letting me hitch a ride."  
  
"Not a problem Mr. Rabb. I have a care package for you that your company sent. Besides, seeing as I haven't been able to get an answer from them as to what's going on, how about you fill me in?"  
  
"Can't do that Colonel, you know how it is. All shadows and secrets, need to know, and all that."  
  
"So, I am just supposed to accept a man with a heavy armament package flying into my base and walking off?"  
  
"Looks that way, doesn't it?"  
  
"Well damn it Mr. Rabb, I don't like it."  
  
Putting his hands on the Colonel's desk and leaning forward to stare him in the eye, "You don't have to like it Colonel, you just have to do it." There were definitely some good things about not being in the military, Harm decided.  
  
"You're package is in the armory. I'll have Lieutenant Sampson show you the way." The Colonel replied coldly. "Dismissed."  
  
With a nod Harm wandered out of the office in time to hear the Colonel call for Lieutenant Sampson. A minute later the Lieutenant joined Harm in the outer office. "The Armory is this way, sir."  
  
Five minutes later Harm was standing in a windowless room filled with all manner of firearms and ammunition. Sitting on a table in the middle of the room Harm saw his 'care package', the equipment the Company had arranged for him. The Sergeant Major in charge of the armory stood off to the side waiting to offer assistance with anything Harm might need.  
  
"How many explosive packages Sergeant Major?"  
  
"Six, sir." The sergeant major replied. He didn't know who this man was, but the Lieutenant explained the Colonel had directed that he be given anything he needed. "What weapons will you be requiring, sir?"  
  
"I'll take an MP-5 with twelve extra magazines; hollow tip ammunition. I'll also require a sniper rifle, whatever you have available will be fine. I'll also need six magazines of armor piercing ammunition for the rifle, a 9mm with ten magazines standard ammunition, and a k-bar."  
  
"That's a hell of a lot of ordinance for one man, sir." The Sergeant Major said walking around the room looking for the weapons indicated.  
  
"I've got a hell of a lot of work to do Sergeant Major."  
  
"What exactly are you doing, sir?"  
  
"No idea Sergeant Major." Harm answered semi honestly. "And if I did know, I couldn't tell you."  
  
Before he knew it the Sergeant Major was placing the weapons and ammunition he'd asked for on the table along with a rucksack to carry the ammunition.  
  
"Think you could find me a set of unmarked cammos Sergeant Major?"  
  
"I probably could, sir." After all, the Colonel had said give the man whatever he asked for.  
  
While the Sergeant Major was out looking for the cammos, Harm opened the document folder included with the explosive devices. Inside he found the intelligence reports he expected and the details of his mission. This one was a Hamas facility apparently, though there wasn't anything on the type of 'experimental' weapon they were supposed to be working on. Didn't matter, they were terrorists, and he had a job to do. Looked to be pretty heavily guarded by the reports he'd quickly read over. Wouldn't be easy, but then again, nothing fun ever was. As he was securing the documents in the rucksack, after transferring the explosives, the Sergeant Major returned with a set of cammos.  
  
"Anything else, sir?" the Sergeant Major asked handing over the clothes.  
  
"MREs and water for six days, night vision glasses, field glasses, portable radio, and a fire team?"  
  
"Well sir, I can get you the food and water, the glasses, and the radio. The fire team would be up to the Colonel."  
  
"Then I guess I can do without the fire team Sergeant Major."  
  
Harm quickly changed into the unmarked cammos while the Sergeant Major rounded up the last of the gear he'd requested. Shrugging the now heavy rucksack onto his shoulders, he nodded at the older soldier.  
  
"Take it easy Sergeant Major."  
  
"You too, sir." The soldier replied, shaking his head as he watched the unknown man walk out of his armory.  
  
"Lieutenant, I could use a lift to the wadi forty seven miles north of here." Harm looked at the young lieutenant walking beside him.  
  
"I'll get a vehicle and crew sir." The Lieutenant rushed off towards the HQ building.  
  
Ten minutes later Harm was riding in the back of the Humvee heading north from the base. He'd given the directions to the driver and sat back watching the blowing sand rush by. He thought back to how Mac had looked at AJ's party before she'd found out he was there. Being with Webb must agree with her, she looked happy. No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't begrudge her that. She'd said it would never work between them, and maybe she was right. She deserved to be with someone who made her happy, even if it wasn't him. Too bad he knew he would never find anyone else. Not like he had time for anything approaching a relationship with his job. He never knew when he'd be called out, or how long he'd be gone. And if he was going to be honest, that was just another reason he'd kept out of contact with people like Mac and Coates. They said they cared about him, so why should he burden them with the not knowing where he was or if he was all right. Why couldn't they just forget about him?  
  
"Sir, we're approaching the co-ordinates you indicated." The driver said.  
  
Damn, he hadn't been watching where they were going and he'd been lost to the world for longer than he thought.  
  
"Right. I'll get out and walk now Corporal." Harm nodded to the driver.  
  
"Are you sure, sir? We've had reports of insurgents in the area around here."  
  
"That's why I'm here Corporal; to scare them all away." Harm said with a wink. As the corporal stopped the humvee, Harm got out and grabbed his pack from the back. Reaching into the vehicle after donning the pack, Harm pulled out the long sniper rifle the armory Sergeant Major had provided him.  
  
"Water, sir?" the Corporal asked, getting out to stand beside Harm, holding out a canteen.  
  
"Sure, you'll be back at the source long before I am. Thanks Corporal." Harm took a long drink from the canteen. Pulling out the insulated gloves that came with the cammos, Harm pulled them on as he looked thoughtfully at the setting sun. "Well, I'm off to see the wizard. Have a safe trip back boys."  
  
"Stay safe, sir, whatever you're doing." The Corporal said with a quick salute.  
  
Slinging the rifle over his shoulder and taking up the MP-5, Harm didn't bother answering the corporal and set off across the desert. If he was careful he could cover most of the distance to the target under the cover of night and then get some sleep. For the next four hours Harm made his was through the night and sand, careful to keep as low as he could and use whatever ground cover he could to cut down on the chances of someone seeing him. He didn't want to get stopped by either ally or enemy patrols.  
  
Finally, Harm stopped near a wadi. Using his hands, he quickly hollowed out a depression into the sand and laid down inside it. It wasn't the best he could do for cover and concealment, but it was all he had energy for. A long flight, not enough sleep and the struggle to keep his thoughts off Mac had taken their toll. Reaching up, Harm pulled as much sand as he could over his body and rucksack careful to leave a bit of room for his head. It just wouldn't do for him to suffocate while sleeping. Once he was satisfied that he was covered Harm adjusted his hat to keep the sand out of his nose and mouth and closed his eyes.  
  
Some time later Harm felt the air and the sand around him heat up. How he hated deserts, almost as much as he hated jungles. Craning his neck to look around as much as he could buried under a sand blanket, Harm decided it would be okay for him to get up and move his position a little. Once he had gotten himself out from his own private sandbox, Harm pulled out one of his canteens and took a swallow of water. He'd need to nurse his water to be on the safe side, and probably see what he could do about replenishing it when he could. Taking a look around to ensure that no one was around, Harm moved down into the wadi and followed it for about a half mile before stopping again. The temperature was rising and would only continue to do so as it approached noon. Squinting up at the sun, Harm hazarded a guess that he had a couple of hours before that happened. Squeezing himself into a natural depression, Harm tipped his hat over his eyes and decided to try and doze a little bit more.  
  
Two days later Harm was perched on a rocky ridge as twilight settled over the target facility. He'd been watching the facility all afternoon through his field glasses making note of all the heavy security. Why didn't they just call in a Predator strike against this place? Why send in a single man to take it out? There was something about this that didn't sit well with him. And why was Mac crying? Swearing to himself, Harm forced himself to not think about Mac. He couldn't think about her while he was out here. Biting his lip Harm made the decision to get inside the compound that night.  
  
After stashing everything he wouldn't need for the night, Harm checked his MP-5 to make sure that everything was clear and then started making his way down to the facility. Carefully, he walked down the ridge and approached the fence surrounding the buildings. While he'd been watching he'd noticed that the guards usually walked a set section of the fence in pairs, and if his calculations were right he'd only have five minutes to get through the fence and find some cover before the guards for this section returned. Taking care to ensure the fence wasn't electrified, Harm carefully used his k-bar knife to hack his way through a small section of the fence. Once an opening was made, he slid under the fence and picked himself up on the inside. With a bit of effort, Harm hid the gap he'd made from casual view and was making his way towards a row of storage tanks when he heard voices. The guards were a little early, and he was out in the open. With a burst of speed Harm ducked behind the tanks just as he heard the guards reach where he had entered the compound. Looking up at the tanks he saw the symbol for explosive materials. With only a quick thought to how convenient that was, Harm took out one of the explosive devices he had and affixed it magnetically to the bottom of the tanks. Flipping the switch on the detonator pack, he armed the explosives to wait for his radio signal.  
  
After a few minutes he heard the guards move on with their patrol and looked out around the tanks. Not seeing anyone in sight, he decided it was time to take this show inside. As he made his way over towards one of the large buildings inside the compound, Harm couldn't help but wonder what Mac was doing right at that minute? As soon as he realized what he was thinking he stopped in his tracks cursing himself silently. He needed to keep his mind on the task at hand. Quickly he started moving again, keeping to the shadows. Soon, he was at the side door of the building and stopped to listen. He couldn't hear anything inside and reached out to slowly open the door. Stepping into the building, he heard the unmistakable 'click' of automatic weapons being loaded. 


	15. Chapter 14

A/N: Alright, this one took longer to write because I had a bit of writer's block, then saw some stuff on the news I wanted to toss in. It is another long one though so I hope that makes up for the lengthy delay a bit.  
  
A/N 2: I know you've all gotten somewhat used to Harm's new language "skills", but he goes even further in this one due to pain and stress. Apologies to those easily offended.  
**  
A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 14_  
  
Harm quickly threw himself backwards through the door he had so recently just come through. As his back hit the dirt outside the door, he heard the unmistakable fire of automatic weapons. Pulling his MP-5 up and towards the door he depressed the trigger sending a spray of bullets at those on the other side. At this moment in time, he'd take blind luck. Releasing the trigger he rolled to his right and came up on a single knee. Taking a look around the compound, he started swearing savagely at himself. He even tossed a few expletives in for Webb. Someone was bound to have heard that racket and they would quite likely be joining the party soon. Pulling the sling of his MP-5 over his head he inched closer to the door and poked his weapon through pulling the trigger again. This time he held on until the weapon clicked repeatedly letting him know it was time to feed the beast. Drawing the weapon close to him he released the magazine and replaced it with a fresh one. Pulling back on the cocking handle he stood up slowly to crouch beside the door. Quickly he dove through firing blindly again, his dive landing him behind a small box. Cautiously, he raised his head and looked over the box to find three bodies laying on the floor, he couldn't see anyone else in the room.  
  
"Well shit, let's hear it for blind luck." He muttered to himself. Quickly he stood up and closed the door he had just come through, again. On the far side of the room he saw another door that led further into the building. Easing away from the door he moved towards the back of the room stopping only to grab a belt of grenades off one of the dead bodies. He figured they would more than likely come in handy.  
  
From what he saw on the outside, this smaller building was not connected to the larger one where he assumed they were doing weapons research. However, unless he missed his guess, there would be some party guests waiting on the other side of the door he just flew through so dramatically. Reaching up, he rubbed at the back of his shoulder where the slung sniper rifle had banged a little too hard during his evasive dive.  
  
Carefully opening the door, Harm looked into what appeared to be an abandoned hallway. Sliding through the door, Harm slowly made his way down the hall checking every room he came across. Mostly offices of some sort, all of them abandoned. He thought about planting one of his packages in this building but decided not to. He was down to five and from the size of the main building he'd probably need them all there.  
  
As he reached the end of the hallway, Harm saw an unmarked thick metal door. Cautiously he nudged it open and peeked through the gap provided. As soon as he did he heard someone say something in Arabic and then heard a metallic clicking. It didn't sound like anything associated with weapons so Harm decided to take a chance. Pushing the door open he softly padded through keeping to the shadows. In a room just off the door he saw two men in lab coats working on something. Beyond the room was a set of stairs that led down and turned to the left. Quietly Harm bypassed the room with the two men in it and started down the stairs.  
  
Harm was surprised, though not overly shocked, to find that the stairs led to an underground tunnel connecting this and the main building. Along the way he saw signs of passageways he assumed led to the other buildings he had noticed. So far, he'd been able to sneak past anyone he'd seen, but none of those people since the first room had carried weapons. Mostly they looked like scientists or engineers. Well that went a ways towards confirming Webb's theory of a weapon being developed here, but it still wasn't conclusive proof. It was an interesting series of underground rooms and passageways though; must be damn hard to pick out even with ground penetrating radar.  
  
As he was nearing the end of the hallways, Harm heard footsteps on the stairs in front of him. With a shake of his head and a quick curse, he looked around without any luck for somewhere to hide. The last room he'd seen had been further back down the corridor, and there were no convenient nooks or crannies to tuck himself into. Pulling his MP-5 up, Harm slid the safety selector off and crouched down into the slender shadows provided by the bad lighting. Better than nothing he thought.  
  
After what seemed like hours, but was in all likelihood just minutes, two men descended the stairs. Both were armed and arguing animatedly in Arabic until they came to a sudden stop seeing the figure kneeling in the shadows. The first man shouted something raising his weapon while the second man turned and ran back up the stairs. With a sigh Harm pulled the trigger of his weapon for a quick burst into the chest of the man in front of him. Standing up quickly he moved to the stairs and took a quick look upwards. He could hear the pounding of footsteps, but could no longer see the man who'd taken off.  
  
With another savage curse Harm started to climb the stairs quickly, keeping an eye out for the man he was following. Why was it that nothing Webb planned ever went according to plans Harm wondered not for the first time. He was so wrapped up in these thoughts he didn't realize he was nearing the top of the stairs. It wasn't until the second bounce of the grenade that he realized something wasn't right. In a flash, Harm decided he stood a better chance with whoever had tossed the grenade down the stairs than with the grenade itself. Pushing off, he sprinted to the top of the stairs and reached the last step as the grenade detonated. With a scream Harm dove over the edge of the stairs instantly aware of a fiery tearing in his leg. Looking up through the pain, he saw four men moving towards him from the far side of the room where they had obviously taken cover from the impending explosion.  
  
"Come on you bastards, time to dance with the ghost!" Harm shouted as he tugged his weapon up and started firing. He managed to take down two of the men before his weapon clicked empty again. Tossing it down he pulled the nine millimeter pistol and squeezed off a few rounds as the remaining two terrorists moved for cover. So much for a sneaky approach, he thought to himself.  
  
Pulling himself to his feet, Harm moved swiftly to the right towards a table in the corner. With a short pull Harm threw the table over on its side and took cover. Shoving the pistol back into his holster Harm pulled up the MP-5 on its sling and loaded a new magazine. He had no idea if he'd even hit the two men who were left and was wondering how to find out without getting his ass blown off.  
  
Before he could formulate a plan he found out that at least one of them was still alive when they opened fire on his table. As the bullets splintered the wooden surface, Harm dropped down to his stomach and making himself as small of a target as he could. Slithering along Harm poked his weapon out around the corner and fired in the direction the bullets had come from. He was rewarded with a loud scream, followed by a gurgle. With a tight smile, Harm waited for the remaining man to give away his location. Cautiously he reversed his position behind the table and moved towards the other edge. If the guy on the other side of the room knew what he was doing he'd be tearing up that end of the table soon. Still no answering hail of bullets came and Harm chewed on his lower lip considering this.  
  
Soon the reason for the man's absence was readily apparent as an alarm rang out through the building. Well, now he knew where his other friend went. Pushing himself up, Harm took a moment to look down and saw the shredded pant leg where hot fragments of metal had showered his leg. Luckily it appeared that only one piece had penetrated the skin, but it was a fairly large chunk. Testing the leg carefully, Harm put weight on it until it hurt too much to continue. He'd be able to move, just not very fast. Gritting his teeth, Harm pushed off and slowly moved towards the door the lone terrorist had escaped through.  
  
Moving carefully through the building, Harm was often engaged in quick, deadly firefights with groups of armed terrorists. He'd used up all of the grenades he'd taken off that first body and was almost out of ammo for his MP-5. For the last hour the fighting had been getting fiercer; at first the terrorists had died quickly or run even faster. Now they were putting up a hellish resistance. His leg was also getting weaker as he moved along. He'd wrapped a crude field dressing around it from one of the uniforms of the men he'd killed, but blood was still seeping out slowly.  
  
Harm suddenly stopped when he heard raised voices somewhere near him. Carefully he edged along the hallway until he came to a partially open door through which he could hear the voices. Through the door he spotted a man and woman kneeling on the floor with dirty blindfolds over their eyes. From the sounds of it, the people engaged in the argument were somewhere in front of the two people on the floor. As he watched, Harm saw a man in a ragged uniform step around the two people and stand behind them. Roughly the man reached down and yanked the blindfold off the kneeling prisoner.  
  
"The deaths of these people will be upon your hands!" the man screamed in heavily accented English.  
  
Sucking his breath in, Harm slid back from the door and looked around hurriedly. Was the man talking to him? How did the man know that he was there?  
  
"Please...don't do this." Someone pleaded in an English accent. That would probably be the man on the floor.  
  
"The infidel will see what it means to ignore our demands to leave our soil!"  
  
Peeking back around the door Harm saw the uniformed man standing close behind the kneeling man with a knife to his throat.  
  
"Shit" Harm breathed as he realized what he was seeing. This was one of those televised executions of innocent people. Sliding his pistol from its holster, Harm took careful aim as the uniformed man was screaming in Arabic. He would need to make this shot count; there was at least one more man in the room from the voices he'd heard earlier. As the uniformed man drew back the knife to strike, Harm squeezed the trigger and pushed through the door. Sliding across the floor, Harm turned to his left and saw another man standing stunned behind a video camera and tripod. Pulling the trigger twice, Harm watched the blood slowly begin to leak from a hole in the man's head. Pushing himself up to his feet once more, Harm scanned the room and didn't see anyone else who would pose a threat.  
  
Turning back to the two people on the floor Harm moved towards the first man he'd shot and kicked the knife away from his hand before leaning down to check for a pulse.  
  
"Who are you?" the kneeling man asked hesitantly.  
  
"Just a friend. Looks like you folks needed a hand." Harm answered quietly. Pulling his K-Bar he quickly cut the rope that had been holding the man's hands behind him and moved over to the woman. First he removed her blindfold and gave her a little reassuring smile then he cut her bonds as well.  
  
"You could say that again. Thank you so much." The kneeling man said quietly. Obviously he was still afraid, and probably in shock. Reaching around behind him, Harm unclipped one of his remaining canteens and handed it to the man.  
  
"What are you doing here?" the woman asked. Not English from the sounds of her accent, probably American.  
  
"At the moment, helping you two. In general, causing as much havoc as I can. Can you two walk enough to get out of here?"  
  
"Yes." The man said as he stood and then helped the woman to stand.  
  
"They were going to kill us weren't they?" the woman asked when she saw the two dead bodies and the camera.  
  
"Looked like it to me." Harm answered truthfully. "Look, I'm still not done here. Do you two know a way out of the building?"  
  
"We don't even know where we are. They haven't taken the blindfolds off in three days." The man answered.  
  
"Shit. Do you know how to use one of these?" Harm asked as he bent down and pulled a handgun from the belt of the dead body at his feet.  
  
"I can probably learn straight away." The man said.  
  
"Good. Safety is here, make sure it's off when you go to shoot something." Harm pointed out as he handed the gun to the man. "And whatever you fucking do, don't shoot me when I come back. Now stay here."  
  
"Where are you going?"  
  
"I told you, I have a job to do. I'll be back. Now sit; stay." Harm said as he walked towards the door again. Listening for a moment he decided no one had heard the commotion and stepped out into the hallway.  
  
Twenty minutes later Harm stood in the doorway to a cavernous room that contained numerous large steel tanks. It also contained a fair number of armed men as far as he could tell.  
  
"Well now Rabb. How are you going to get this one done?" Harm wondered aloud. This was what he was looking for, a catalyst for his demolition work. Planting the rest of his packages here would make a nice bang. Unfortunately he didn't see those men in the room just letting him walk in and place them. His leg was also starting to get worse, or the adrenaline was wearing off and he was just feeling it more. As much as he'd love to unsling his rifle and just start picking them off like birds, he had a feeling that those he didn't hit would be able to swarm him fairly quickly.  
  
Ejecting the magazine from his MP-5 Harm could see he only had six rounds left in his last magazine. Well, no guns blazing routine. Wouldn't really do much good without Sundance anyway. The alarms were still ringing out and all the men he could see looked pretty vigilant.  
  
With a sudden thought Harm shrugged his shoulders. No one had said that the explosives had to be attached to anything, they just had to be near enough to cause the tanks to go up. Carefully he took out one of the remaining packages and attached the radio detonator. Kneeling down on the ground he poked his head back into the doorway and made sure no one was looking in his direction. With a quick cast he slid the explosives along the floor towards the nearest cylinder. As it coasted to a rest underneath the cylinder he smiled grimly. One down, four to go. Carefully he repeated the exercise with another package. Once the second one had also come to rest underneath one of the tanks, he realized there weren't three more tanks in easy reach. Pausing, he looked into the room and decided that it probably didn't matter. If those two tanks went up, the rest would probably go up in a chain reaction. Turning around Harm started back to where he'd left the freed hostages. Along the way he planted the last of his explosives in various rooms that looked like chemistry labs.  
  
Finally he was back in the room where he'd originally found the hostages. He saw them nervously looking at him from one corner of the room, as far away from the bodies as they could get. "Come on." He said quietly, motioning them to join him.  
  
"What do we do now?" The woman asked in an equally soft whisper.  
  
"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm just about ready to blow this joint."  
  
"Sounds good." The British man said with a sigh.  
  
Almost as soon as they started out the woman noticed that Harm was limping badly. Looking down she saw the blood on his pants and around his boots. "My God, your leg!"  
  
"I'll be fine; I know a doctor or two." Harm shrugged off her concern. "We need to move it."  
  
As quietly and as quickly as he could, Harm led the two former hostages through the tunnels to the room where he'd first entered the complex. As soon as he entered the room he sensed something was wrong and held up his hand to stop the two behind him. Dropping to his knee heavily Harm drew his pistol and looked around. The bodies were gone, that's what he'd seen without knowing it.  
  
"Someone's here." He whispered.  
  
As soon as he said it two men barged through the door with AK-47s blazing. Aiming his pistol Harm started squeezing off rounds. Before he'd fired four rounds the English man stepped up beside him and started firing with the handgun Harm had given him. Between the two of them they took out the two terrorists, and two more men who came in after them.  
  
"Thanks." Harm said simply.  
  
"No way they're going to lock me up again mate, or the lady."  
  
Harm stood and moved over to where the bodies were strewn on the floor. Reaching down he grabbed one of the AK-47 assault rifles and searched the bodies for extra clips. Ejecting the magazine that was already in the weapon he inserted a fresh one and chambered a round.  
  
"Alright, listen to me. When you go out this door go straight to the fence. I cut the wire almost directly in front of this door. Get through the fence and keep running. Don't look back, I'll be right behind you. There's a ridge not far from the fence, get up it as fast as you can and take cover behind it. Got it?"  
  
Silently the two former hostages nodded and got ready to run. Harm stepped through the door and put his back to the wall beside the door. "Now!" he nded.  
  
He felt both people stumble out the door and move towards the fence. As soon as they did one of the roaming guards spotted them and shouted something. With a flick of the wrist Harm leveled his rifle at the guard and squeezed off a stream of bullets. As the guard went down under the hail another one shouted something and Harm adjusted the aim of his weapon. So much for doing this quietly.  
  
With a quick glance over his shoulder he saw both the man and woman at the fence looking for the section he'd cut. When the woman located it, he started moving towards them keeping an eye on the compound. Everywhere he looked guards were pouring out of buildings so quickly it was impossible to keep moving his rifle at the new ones as they appeared. Pushing the lever on the side of the weapon he dropped the magazine and rammed a fresh one home. Chambering the first round he started spraying bullets at anyone he saw.  
  
Suddenly he felt the fence against his back. With a tight grin he glanced down and got ready to drop to his knees. Unfortunately, he was helped to his knees by a torturous impact on his left shoulder. Looking down dumbly he watched as the blood seeped through the jacket. Cursing loudly he shoved himself against the fence and unexpectedly felt it give way. Looking up he saw the woman standing over him.  
  
"GO!" he yelled at her and then pushed himself under the fence. Staggering to his feet he started backing away from the fence. Dropping his rifle he pulled his handgun out once more. At least this he could fire with one hand. Every step he fired a round until the weapon clicked on empty.  
  
Turning Harm stumbled as he started up the ridge.  
  
"Ah fuck it." He muttered to himself as he pulled the radio trigger from his pocket. Flipping up the six switch covers he pushed the buttons to light them up. With a last glance at the compound and short prayer that he wasn't too close, he pushed the green button to set off all the packages.  
  
As the flames and explosions ripped through the compound, Harm covered his head and his eyes with his arms against the heat. He felt hot metal rip into his back and arms as the hot air washed over him. And then he passed out.  
  
Water passed over his lips and Harm struggled to open his eyes. "Fuck." He muttered when he finally succeeded. Both the man and woman were standing over him. "I didn't know the show would be that big." he tried to shrug but stopped when the pain in his shoulder hit him.  
  
"Are you alright mate?"  
  
"Not really, thanks for asking though. Listen, at the top of the ridge I stashed a ruck. Go get it?"  
  
"This one?" the woman asked holding out his rucksack.  
  
"There's a radio in there, pull it out for me?"  
  
As soon as the woman extracted his radio and handed it to him Harm turned it on. "Any call sign, this is Ghost. I am a company call sign and need immediate extraction of three bodies."  
  
Silently he waited against the hope that someone picked up his transmission. Suddenly through the static he heard "Ghost, this is Bravo 2- 0. What is your position?"  
  
"Bravo 2-0, just look for the big God damned smoke signal." Harm answered.  
  
"Roger that Ghost. We are an air call sign inbound. ETA five minutes."  
  
"Thank fucking Christ." Harm muttered before passing out again.  
  
He didn't know how long it was before he woke again, but when he did he was onboard a helicopter looking up into a familiar face.  
  
"God you're one ugly fucker to wake up to in the morning Gunny." He muttered.  
  
"Nice to see you too, sir. It's been awhile. Your handiwork I take it?" Gunnery Sergeant Galindez asked looking out the window at a pillar of black smoke.  
  
"Didn't have a beacon on me. Why am I strapped to a fucking stretcher?"  
  
"You're pretty beat up sir. Burns and shrap wounds, not to mention the bullet in your shoulder. Corpsman shot you full of morphine, I'm surprised you can talk."  
  
Nodding silently Harm thought back on the mission. "What a cluster fuck that was."  
  
"Sir, who are they?" Gunny asked nodding across the helicopter.  
  
Looking up Harm saw the two people he had rescued from the terrorists. "No idea. Just didn't like the thought of them having their heads ripped off."  
  
Hearing him yelling at Gunny the two former hostages looked over at him. "Who are you?" the man shouted.  
  
"Me? I'm no one, just a ghost." Harm answered with a small, tight smile before he let the morphine take him again. As he drifted off he couldn't help but wonder what Coates had meant when she said that Mac was too busy crying. He'd let her go, she should have found happiness by now. 


	16. Chapter 15

** A Man Called Ghost**  
_  
Chapter 15_  
  
Gunnery Sergeant Victor Galindez paused before he walked through the doors to JAG. He'd come back from the Gulf on the same flight that had brought Harm back as soon as he was stable enough to travel. From what he'd heard, Gunny figured delete that the Company was going to hide Harm in plain sight. They'd sent him back with the other medi-vacs state-side, and he'd even been checked into Bethesda, albeit in a secured wing with armed guards. Gunny had a week before he shipped back out for the Gulf when his temporary orders to escort Harm home expired, but he knew that there were a few people who needed to hear about the Commander. This wasn't going to be easy, but it wasn't the Admiral Gunny was really worried about. He'd witnessed things in Paraguay he was sure that the Colonel and Commander would rather he hadn't, and he knew they didn't know he'd seen those things. He'd also heard the Commander call out for the Colonel in his morphine induced sleep more than once.  
  
With a sigh Gunny pushed his way through the doors leading to JAG ops. Ignoring the looks that those who knew him were giving him, he made his way directly to the Admiral's yeoman's desk. He recalled the girl from the few times he'd met her and he couldn't help but smile.  
  
"Afternoon Petty Officer. I was wondering if I could have a few minutes of the Admiral's time?"  
  
"Gunnery Sergeant Galindez. Good to see you again." Coates smiled as she looked up at the man before her. "I'm not too sure I can squeeze you in, the Admiral's got a busy afternoon and needs to be on the Hill soon. Maybe tomorrow?"  
  
"I don't think it can wait Petty Officer." Gunny said with conviction.  
  
With a raised eyebrow Jennifer Coates looked at the marine before her. She knew only the extremely brave or the extremely stupid stood against a Marine intent on something, but she was the keeper of the gate so to speak, and it was her job to safeguard the Admiral's office. "What makes you say that Gunny?"  
  
With a quick glance around Gunny cleared his throat and leaned a bit closer. "It's about the Commander."  
  
At the Gunny's soft words Jen's eyes grew wide. "He isn't..."  
  
"No, but it was a close call." Gunny said truthfully.  
  
"Does the Colonel know?"  
  
"I haven't spoken to her yet Petty Officer, and I suggest you take that same course. I would like to speak to the Admiral first."  
  
"I'll see what I can do Gunny." Jen said picking up her phone and pushing the Admiral's extension. "Sir, I'm sorry to disturb you but Gunnery Sergeant Galindez is here and has asked for a moment of your time. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."  
  
Setting the phone back in its receiver, Jen looked up at Gunny. "Go right in Gunny."  
  
"Thanks Petty Officer. I appreciate it, and I'm sure the Commander would as well." Gunny said as he knocked on the door and opened as soon as the admiral barked, "Enter!"  
  
"I'm not so sure about that Gunny." Jen muttered to herself. "But he should be."  
  
"Petty Officer?" Mac's question broke through Jen's thoughts.  
  
"Ma'am. I'm sorry, I didn't see you standing there."  
  
"That's alright Petty Officer. Is he in?" Mac asked with a tight smile.  
  
"He is ma'am, but he's currently meeting with someone." Jen said with sympathy shining in her eyes.  
  
"Okay. Is something wrong Petty Officer?" Mac asked cautiously.  
  
"Why would you ask that, ma'am?"  
  
"You're looking at me a little funny. Is there something I should know?"  
  
"I can't really say, ma'am."  
  
"Does it have to do with the Admiral's surprise visitor? I heard from Harriet that Gunny was here." Mac offered as an explanation when Jen's eyes widened in surprise again.  
  
"It's not my place to say, ma'am. Sorry."  
  
"Jen, do you know anything?"  
  
"I really can't say, ma'am. I'm sure the Admiral will call you if he needs you." Jen tried to get out from under Mac's glare.  
  
"Fine. Let him know I need to see him when he's done."  
  
"Aye, aye ma'am." Jen answered coming to attention.  
  
"Gunny! Long time no see, son." Admiral Chegwidden said holding his hand out to the man who'd just walked into his office.  
  
"Thank you, sir." Gunny said coming to attention before taking the Admiral's hand and shaking it firmly.  
  
"Have a seat Gunny. What brings you by JAG?" the Admiral asked stepping around his desk to sit in the big leather chair once more.  
  
Sitting down Gunny thought about how he should phrase this. From all accounts the Admiral had been something of a bear since Commander Rabb had left. "It's Commander Rabb, sir."  
  
"Commander Rabb is no longer at this duty station, Gunny." The Admiral said harshly. "In fact he's no longer Commander Rabb. If you're looking for him I suggest you check his apartment, but most don't have any luck there either."  
  
"He's not in his apartment, sir." Gunny said simply. He wasn't about to tell a two star that he was being an ass.  
  
"Well if you know that Gunny, I'm sure you know where he is."  
  
"Bethesda, sir." Gunny offered. The Admiral hadn't asked where Harm was, but Gunny knew from the sudden cooling of the Admiral's attitude that he was masking something.  
  
"What's that Gunny?"  
  
"The Commander is in Bethesda, sir."  
  
"And how would you know that?"  
  
"I've been with him since the evac chopper picked him up, sir." Gunny offered without going into details. "He was flown back with a group of casualties last night."  
  
"I thought you were in Iraq with your unit."  
  
"I was, sir. We're the ones who picked up the pieces." Gunny swore to himself when he thought of how that was going to sound.  
  
Silently, the Admiral regarded the man in front of him, but his mind was on another man, a man he had thought of as a son for so long now. A man who he couldn't tell how he felt, or even show it, damn it. "How bad?"  
  
"Bad. He was pretty torn up when we got to him, sir. Got caught too close to an explosion, had an assault round lodged in his shoulder, and from what the doc said, his leg is pretty much useless. Apparently he had a chunk of frag stuck in his leg and kept walking on it. Doc said it shredded some of his muscles pretty badly."  
  
Gunny watched as a transformation took place on the Admiral's face, hearing his words, the stoic mask the Admiral had put up when Gunny first mentioned Harm, crumbled as the worry and fear he felt made themselves known. This was soon quickly replaced with anger. "Damn it, what the hell was he doing?"  
  
"I'm not too sure, sir. But whatever it was, it allowed him to bring out two hostages the terrorists were going to execute for television. Honestly, I don't think that was his mission, more like a target of opportunity." Gunny answered sincerely.  
  
"He always has to be the hero, doesn't he?" the Admiral sighed after a moment.  
  
"It's who he is, sir. And those two people would surely be dead if it wasn't for him. Apparently he stopped the execution as it was beginning."  
  
With a sigh the Admiral pulled off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Does Mac know about this?"  
  
"I came right in to see you, sir."  
  
"Good. She doesn't need to hear this yet."  
  
"But sir..."  
  
"Damn it Gunny, I'll decide how to break it to Mac. I wouldn't want it coming from anyone else. What more can you tell me?"  
  
"Not a lot Admiral. He's in a lock down wing at Bethesda with guards. Not sure how long he's going to be there, but I can't see the Company sending him back out anytime soon. Not with his leg and all the damage he took."  
  
"Sounds like we're going to have some trouble getting in to see him."  
  
"You're going to go see him, sir?"  
  
"Gunny, that is none of your concern. Now I believe you did what you came here to do, and I believe I need to speak to Colonel MacKenzie as soon as I figure out what I'm going to say."  
  
"With all due respect, sir, I'd like to be here when you tell the Colonel. Maybe I can answer any questions she has."  
  
"I don't know if that's such a good idea Gunny."  
  
"Please, sir. There are also some things I need to tell Colonel MacKenzie alone, sir."  
  
"What kind of things Gunny?"  
  
"Sir, I think that's for the Colonel to hear."  
  
"Gunnery Sergeant, you are flirting with insubordination."  
  
"I know, sir. And you can proffer charges later if you're inclined. But right now I need to talk to the Colonel."  
  
Picking up his phone, Admiral Chegwidden did something he rarely did. He called one of his officers directly instead of sending his yeoman. "Mac, could you come to my office please?"  
  
Both men then sat silently until Mac knocked on the door. Instead of calling for her to enter, the Admiral looked at Gunny with a question in his eyes. Nodding, Gunny stood up and went to open the door. Coming to attention he nodded crisply at Mac.  
  
"Ma'am."  
  
"You the Admiral's doorman now Gunny?" Mac asked with a raised eyebrow. The whole thing seemed strange to her. First the Admiral called her directly, called her Mac, and now Gunny was acting as a butler.  
  
"Come in Mac." AJ said evenly. "Take a seat, both of you."  
  
"What's going on, sir?" Mac asked curiously.  
  
Waiting until both the Gunny and Mac had taken their seats AJ pulled off the glasses he had just put back on. "Mac, the Gunny has some news that I think you should be made aware of."  
  
"News, sir? Gunny?" Mac asked hesitantly.  
  
"Are you sure, sir?" Gunny asked the Admiral. After all he'd just said he should be the one to break the news to Mac.  
  
"No I'm not Gunny, but you felt that you had the obligation to bring the news. Mac, I'm going to get us some coffee, I'll be back in a minute." The Admiral said standing up from behind his desk. Damn it, he just couldn't find the words to tell Mac that Harm was right now laying in a hospital and no one knew anything beyond what Gunny had reported.  
  
"Sir!" Mac protested standing up. There was no way in hell she'd let the Admiral bring her coffee.  
  
With a gentle pressure on her shoulder, the Admiral forced Mac to reclaim her seat. "Sit Mac, talk with the Gunny. I'll be back in a minute."  
  
As the door closed behind the Admiral, Mac turned to face Gunny. "Gunny?" she prompted.  
  
Reaching up Gunny did something very unusual for him. He rubbed his hands on his face and when he looked at Mac, she saw how haunted his eyes were. "I...ma'am, I don't know how to start."  
  
"What is it Gunny?"  
  
Taking a big breath Gunny decided to start at the beginning. "Five days ago I was in country ma'am. My squad was doing helo mounted patrols and we'd just hit our halfway point when this big explosion could be heard, even over the rotors. Suddenly there was this huge pillar of smoke to the north of us. We didn't know what was going on ma'am. We hadn't heard of any big ops in progress, and ma'am, this had to be big. Real big."  
  
As Gunny paused in his story Mac nodded to him. "Go on Gunny. I assume you have a point to your story?"  
  
"Yes ma'am. Anyway, we got an all net broadcast shortly after that, maybe half an hour after the explosion, maybe a bit more. Our pilot and the crew took the transmission and we started making our way towards the smoke. At first we thought we were going in to provide support ma'am, Air Cav style. When we got a bit closer the LT got it out of the pilot that we were going in to extract three bodies. We set down about a half mile from where the explosion had taken place; looked like a compound of some sort. The LT sent us out on a grid search to look for the three who'd called for extraction."  
  
Taking a breath, Gunny paused to look at the Colonel and recognized the look in her eyes that told him she knew where he was going. "Ma'am, I was with the team that found him."  
  
"Harm?" Mac asked hollowly, blinking her eyes against the swell of emotion. "Was he, is he?"  
  
"No ma'am. But I think he might wish he was when he wakes up. It was pretty bad ma'am."  
  
"Bad?"  
  
"From what our corpsman could determine ma'am, he'd been caught too close to the explosion. The two people with him think he set it off, so he must have known he was too close. He was hit pretty bad with the shrapnel ma'am. Oh ma'am I'm so sorry."  
  
Mac took a deep breath and nodded briskly. "Go on Gunny."  
  
"He'd been shot up as well ma'am, the bullet was still lodged in his shoulder. They couldn't get it out until we got him back to base and by then infection had set in. Ma'am, I'm so sorry, but the worst is his leg. He had a piece of grenade fragment in his leg and it looks like he kept walking on it for a good couple of hours. The Doc at base said he'd torn up the muscles in his leg something fierce ma'am." Gunny finished quietly.  
  
"Is that it Gunny?" Mac asked woodenly. She couldn't believe her own words. This man had just told her that the man who'd been her best friend for half her adult life was in a hospital torn up and bleeding and she asked if that was all?  
  
"He woke up once on the chopper ma'am. He was lucid enough to recognize me. And make a joke ma'am. They've got him in Bethesda now, in a secure wing."  
  
With a deep breath Mac decided she needed to get away, to lock herself in her office before anyone saw her collapse. She couldn't let them see her cry again. With a brisk nod Mac stood up. "Thank you for your efforts in bringing us this news Gunny."  
  
With that Mac strode across the Admiral's office to the door as fast as she could. As she was reaching the knob Gunny called to her, "Ma'am?"  
  
"Yes Gunny?"  
  
"Ma'am, he's been pretty out of it for the last few days; the docs have kept him shot up with morphine. But ma'am, he kept asking for you, even when he was unconscious." Gunny added softly.  
  
Biting her lip, Mac yanked the door open and pushed past the Admiral as he was reaching for the door.  
  
"Colonel?" he asked, as she stormed past him.  
  
"I'm sorry, sir." Mac blurted out, continuing until she got to her office. Slamming the door behind her, she slowly slid to the floor with her back against the door, finally letting the tears come. 


	17. Chapter 16

** A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 16_  
  
Harm slowly opened his eyes and tried to focus on his surroundings. The last thing he remembered was what? The complex in Iraq. The hostages. Gunny on a helicopter. Looking around, he sighed. A hospital by the looks of it, and if the whirring and beeping of equipment was any indication, someone thought he was in trouble. Weakly, he reached up to pull off the probes when a voice stopped him. "I wouldn't do that Rabb. From what I've heard your nurse is something of a force of nature."  
  
Gingerly, Harm turned his head toward the voice. "Webb."  
  
"Welcome back to the land of the living Rabb. I must say, when you fuck up, you don't do it half way, do you?" Clayton Webb said with a smirk.  
  
"What are you..." Harm started as he tried to shift his position. Suddenly pain racked his whole body and he left off with a muted scream.  
  
"Mind yourself Rabb. Doctors are saying you're going to be in pain for awhile. Burns and multiple fragmentation wounds, nasty business."  
  
"What do you want Webb?" Harm asked once the pain had subsided.  
  
"Well, to be honest, I'm here to debrief you as soon as you feel up to it." Webb said, taking a seat beside the bed. "Whenever you're ready."  
  
"Can't this wait Spider?"  
  
"I'll be here. Just call out when you're ready."  
  
The doctor took the moment Harm was glaring at Webb to enter the room. "Well, how's the hero today?"  
  
"Not feeling all that damn heroic." Harm muttered bitterly.  
  
"Well, Agent Rabb, I can see how you'd be saying that. How much do you know of your injuries?"  
  
"I know they fucking hurt."  
  
"I'm sure they do. Right now we've got you on a morphine drip, that should help with the pain..."  
  
"Is that wise?" Harm questioned.   
  
"I realize you may want to be brave and heroic, Agent Rabb, but trust me, it's for the best. What are you doing in here Agent Webb? I told you I would come and get you when Agent Rabb is well enough for you to poke and prod him. Get out."  
  
"Doctor..."  
  
"Besides, Agent Webb, there are some people to see Agent Rabb, and I am told you are the one they need to get clearance from."  
  
"Who are they?" Webb asked, as he opened the door.  
  
"Me." Admiral Chegwidden said, barging in past Webb.  
  
"AJ, what are you doing here?" Webb asked in shock at the same time Harm muttered, "Oh shit."  
  
"A little birdie told me about Mr. Rabb here. Thought I'd come by." He said, a little louder than he probably should have.  
  
"I'll bet it did." Webb snapped back, seeing Gunny standing in the hall behind the Admiral with Mac. "Victor, Sarah."  
  
"Mr. Webb. Sorry about this, but they had to know." Gunny said, his lips tight, looking like the marine he was, ready to stand his ground.  
  
"Alright, this is quite enough. All of you, out." The doctor said throwing his hands up. "Out!"  
  
"Excuse me, Commander?" Admiral Chegwidden asked.  
  
"It's obvious there's more going on here than a friendly visit and I am not going to let you have your cock fight here, he needs his rest. Everyone out. You can settle this somewhere else." The doctor said making shooing motions, then turned back to Harm. "Agent Rabb, try to get some sleep please. It really is the best cure for anything."  
  
After the doctor shoved everyone out into the hallway, Harm heard voices raised in an argument. Both the Admiral and Mac were shouting at Webb and Harm couldn't help but smile. Closing his eyes he tried to give in to sleep once more, but wasn't having much success. He heard the door open and close softly and knew she was there even without opening his eyes.  
  
"Why are you here?" he asked when she didn't say anything. Opening his eyes he saw her sitting in the chair next to his bed with worry plain in her eyes.  
  
Licking her lips nervously, Mac just looked at Harm. She knew he'd lost weight from seeing him at Bud and Harriet's, but he was even skinnier now. She could see where his skin looked raw and tender on his arms, and the dressing that was bandaged over his left shoulder. Fighting back her tears, Mac tried to smile. "Someone had to come tell you how stupid you were."  
  
"And you decided that should be you. Great. Thanks. Mission accomplished. Please leave." Harm sighed bitterly. This was exactly why he'd tried to break off communication with those at JAG. He knew one day he had a chance of ending up like this, or worse, and he didn't want them to see it.  
  
"Can't do that. The Admiral ordered me to come in and not to leave until he told me to." Mac tried again. "Harm, I don't know where to start."  
  
"Then don't, we've done all of our talking Mac."  
  
"Maybe I've got more to say."  
  
"Then say it to Webb. He can't tell me enough about how much you say to him." Harm spat.  
  
"He what?"  
  
"Oh before every mission, every time I see him he can't stop singing your praises. Shouldn't you be with him right now?"  
  
"Oh he does, does he? I'll deal with him later," she practically sneered before refocusing her attention on Harm. "I'm here to see you, not him."  
  
"Why? What am I to you?"  
  
Before Mac could answer the doctor came into the room again. "Sorry to interrupt, but I didn't get a chance to check those stitches before, thanks to Agent Webb. I'm going to roll you over Agent Rabb, I'm sorry but it's going to hurt."  
  
While Mac watched, the doctor gently rolled Harm over on to his stomach and opened the back of his gown. She couldn't help but gasp when she saw the patchwork of stitches and lacerations all over Harm's back.  
  
"There's still some seepage from the stitches Agent Rabb, but they seem to be clean. Let's check that leg of yours next." The doctor said as he pulled down the blankets and slowly unwrapped the bandage from around Harm's leg. "We're going to go back into surgery tomorrow to try and repair some more of the muscle damage you did to this leg. I'm afraid you've got a long recovery period for that particular number; I see a lot of rehab in your future."  
  
Mac couldn't hold it in anymore and quickly stood up and started pacing the room, looking everywhere but at Harm.  
  
"You never did answer my question Agent Rabb, what do you know of your injuries?"  
  
"I hurt all over doc, it would probably be quicker if you told me what you know." Harm grunted against the pain.  
  
"Well, you had some burns when they brought you in, but they weren't as serious as they looked. You had a great deal of shrapnel removed from your back before you were shipped stateside. The most serious problem is your leg, sir. You managed to tear and shred a good deal of the muscle. We've had you in the operating room twice already to repair some of the damage, but we're going to have to go back in a few more times before we get it all. As I mentioned, that will be followed by a long period of rehab."  
  
"Is that all?" Harm asked, unconsciously echoing Mac's question of the Gunny.  
  
"Pretty much. You were mighty beat up when they brought you in, but your back and your leg are our main concerns. Do you have any questions?"  
  
"When can I get out of here?"  
  
"It won't be for awhile Agent Rabb. I'm sorry, I know it's not much fun to be laying in that bed for an extended period of time, but it really is for the best. I'll leave you to rest now. Colonel, please don't stay too long. Agent Rabb needs to get some sleep."  
  
"I've been out of it for days, Doc." Harm spat tersely.  
  
"And I'm starting to think I should have kept you out of it a little longer, but Agent Webb insisted. Don't argue with me on this.  
  
"Yes, sir." Harm said ruefully. No matter where he went, someone from the Navy felt the need to order him around.  
  
With a slight nod, the doctor smiled at Mac and then left. Harm couldn't blame him for smiling at her, hell it was all he could do not to. Whenever she was around he had trouble holding on to his anger, his bitterness. If only he could make her see that her loyalty was misplaced and ill-timed. She'd be happier out of his life.  
  
"What was that?" Mac asked, coming to a stop in her pacing.  
  
"What was what?" Harm asked as he struggled to turn over again.  
  
"Here, let me help you." Mac rushed to his side and gently gathered the gown behind him. Softly she ran her hand over his back, brushing her fingertips over his stitches and the newborn scars. "Oh Harm, your poor back. What did you do to yourself this time?"  
  
Harm tried to ignore the feelings that came rushing back as Mac danced her fingers over his back, immediately forcing them back where they belonged, hidden away, buried.  
  
"Thought I was far enough away to trigger the charges. Guess I was wrong." Harm said with a lame single shoulder shrug.  
  
"Why didn't you move to what you knew was a safe distance?" Mac asked gently as she tied his gown and helped him roll over onto his back.  
  
"Well, people were pumping bullets into me, I couldn't run any further, and, oh yeah, they were shooting at two unarmed people with me as well." Harm said with a bitter laugh.  
  
"Gunny told me about the two hostages you rescued." Mac said with pride in her voice.  
  
"Gunny says too much. He should know better than to talk about the kind of ops I get."  
  
"Harm, he just knew that we'd be worried." Mac sat down again in the chair next to Harm's bed.  
  
"Well don't be. I'll be fine, thanks for coming." Harm said closing his eyes.  
  
"Harm you just bitched the doctor out because you've been asleep for days." Mac reminded him gently.  
  
Harm simply grunted in response.  
  
"Now what did you mean about 'she'd be happier out of his life'?"  
  
With a sharp intake of breath Harm opened his eyes and looked at her. He didn't say that out loud, damn it, he did. "Look Mac, go. Be with Webb, be happy."  
  
"Don't you think I can determine what will make me happy, Harm?" Mac asked heatedly.  
  
"You did. At the taxi-stand." Harm said, closing his eyes once more. "Mac, for the friendship we once had, please leave? Just leave me be."  
  
"Why are you doing this Harm? Why are you shutting me out?" Mac asked plaintively, emotion rising in her voice.  
  
"Damn it Mac, just go. I don't need you here." Harm's voice rose, his glare boring a hole through her.  
  
"Why? You said you wanted me to be happy, this is where I want to be. Where I need to be."  
  
"JUST GO!" Harm shouted at her.  
  
"Harm, please." Mac was not going to let herself cry, but she wasn't beyond begging.  
  
Closing his eyes tightly, "NOW!" Harm shouted more loudly, this time gesturing to the door with his good arm.  
  
"Fine." Standing up, Mac struggled to keep her voice steady, barely holding back her tears. When she reached the door, she stopped to look over her shoulder at the man in the hospital bed. "But I'll be back." She vowed under her breath, too low for him to hear.  
  
Hearing the door slam, Harm sighed. Without a sound, he let the tears he'd been holding back fall down his cheeks. "Damn, I need a drink." He muttered to himself. 


	18. Chapter 17

** A Man Called Ghost**  
_  
Chapter 17_  
  
Beth sat and watched Harm working on the treadmill. He'd been at it for over an hour and didn't look like he was ready to stop anytime soon. His physical therapist had already tried to get him to knock off for the day but he merely shook his head no and kept going. He had made improvements since he began rehab on his leg two weeks before, and was no longer restricted to being on crutches. Beth was there every day to watch him. She was also well aware of his daily routine of going to rehab, and then losing himself in a bottle.  
  
Standing up from the plastic chair she was sitting in, Beth crossed the room to stand beside Harm as he plodded away on the treadmill. "Whoa there, pilot. Power down for a little while."  
  
"Not ready to O'Neil." Harm gasped between breaths.  
  
"I think you're going to have to be, Harm. Your PT looks like she's about ready to do you serious damage requiring more rehab later."  
  
Savagely, Harm hit a button on the console of his treadmill and slowly stopped walking. "Fine."  
  
Beth silently followed him towards the section of the room set aside for weights. "You've already worked your shoulder there Hammer." Beth gently reminded him. "Why don't you hit the showers and then we'll go for dinner with Allison."  
  
Harm nodded his agreement when the physical therapist walked over to join them. "Well Agent Rabb, I want to take a last look at that leg of yours, but I'm pretty much ready to sign off on you. I wish all my patients were as stubborn as you sometimes." The pretty young blonde said with a smile.  
  
"Now?" Harm asked in reference to the checking out of his leg.  
  
"Unless you have a hot date."  
  
"Not likely. Let's get it over with." Harm answered quietly.  
  
As the two of them walked over to an examination table, Beth called out, "I'll meet you outside when you're done showering Hammer."  
  
Walking out the front doors, Beth saw a vaguely familiar looking woman crossing the parking lot towards the building. It took her a moment before she could place her, never having seen her in jeans and a t-shirt before, but she knew without a doubt that she was looking at Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie. 'Shit' she muttered to herself, just what she needed. Quickly, Beth stepped out to intercept Mac before she got to the doors.  
  
"Colonel MacKenzie" she said calmly, stepping up beside Mac. "A moment please."  
  
Mac turned towards the slender brunette who had spoken to her. There was something familiar about her but she couldn't place it. "Yes?"  
  
"You don't recognize me do you?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I do recognize you, but I'm not sure from where."  
  
"My court martial. You were trying to pin me on sexual harassment. Commander O'Neil, retired."  
  
"Beth O'Neil." Mac said as everything clicked into place.  
  
"Nice to see you again Colonel." Beth said with a nod and a little smile. "We need to talk."  
  
"I'm sorry Ms. O'Neil, but I'm hoping to catch someone before they leave the treatment centre."  
  
"I was pretty sure you were, but I think you might want to talk to me first Colonel." Beth said steadily. "In fact I'm going to insist you speak to me before you go see Harm."  
  
"You're going to insist?" Mac said with shock. Was she so mistaken about Harm? Had he found someone else? Was he seeing this woman?  
  
"I know you haven't spoken to Hammer much recently, so I'm going to assume you aren't aware of our relationship." Beth said without thinking about how her statement would sound to the woman before her.  
  
"Relationship?" Mac repeated hollowly. She had been wrong, Harm had moved on.  
  
"Harm and I work for the same employer. We've become good friends over the last year, in fact, he started out flying missions with me before he moved to field ops."  
  
"Good friends." Mac echoed softly.  
  
Beth couldn't help but see the despair in Mac's eyes. She decided to take a more friendly approach to this than she initially intended. "Nothing like that Colonel, I assure you. Now, if I wasn't seeing someone, maybe I'd ask you out for a drink."  
  
It took a moment for what Beth had said to sink into Mac's already racing mind. "Oh. Oh." She said with shock. "I see." Harm and Manetti's comments long ago about don't ask now glaringly obvious.  
  
"Good, then you know I'm not a threat to you. I am only a good friend of Harm's, or rather, I would be if he'd let me get close enough. Now, let me ask you this. Why are you here, now, when Harm's therapy is finished? Why haven't you been here once over the last two weeks?"  
  
"Not that it's any of your business, but I was called away for a investigation on the Wake Island right after Harm turned up again." Mac said with slight indignation in her voice. She would not allow her actions to be called into question by this woman.  
  
"So it wasn't your choice to stay away?" Beth asked carefully. She needed to know she was doing the right thing for Harm, or it would all blow up in her face.  
  
"No. Believe me, I wanted to be here, and it's gnawed at me over the last three weeks while I was at sea. I needed to be here for him. You said he's finished?" Mac asked earnestly.  
  
"He's just going through his final check up with his therapist as we speak. He's going to be out in a few minutes, and I hate to say it Colonel, but I don't think you should be here when he does come out."  
  
"Why not?" Mac asked angrily. She hadn't been able to be there for Harm, but now she was going to be and nothing would stop her.  
  
"Don't get me wrong Colonel, I think you need to speak to him, and I think you need to speak to him soon. But now is not the time. He's angry and bitter, and to be honest I don't think you'd accomplish much."  
  
"He's always angry and bitter lately." Mac said quietly.  
  
"Can you blame him?" Beth asked, her voice equally low.  
  
It was a moment before Mac answered her, her voice barely audible. "Yes and no. What are you suggesting?"  
  
"I'm taking him to dinner to celebrate the end of physical therapy tonight with my partner. We're going to be at Ed's Embarcadero at six thirty. Are you following me Colonel?"  
  
"Why there and not here?"  
  
"Because maybe if you talk to him then, he won't curl up inside a bottle before he goes to sleep tonight." Beth said clearly concerned for Harm's welfare. "I'm hoping if we give him some time to calm down and have a relaxing meal he'll be more open to talking to you. Or at least, less likely to blow up."  
  
"He's drinking?" Mac knew he'd been drinking some since her visit to his apartment that one time, but she didn't think Harm would give in completely to drink.  
  
"Every night. It was bad before; he suffers from nightmares and I think it was the only way he could sleep without them. But it's a lot worse since he came back from Iraq. I'm worried about him Colonel."  
  
"Please, call me Mac." Mac said softly. If this woman cared for Harm as much as it appeared, the least she could do was be friendly with her. "How bad is it, honestly?"  
  
"He's not eating, and like I said, he gets drunk every night in order to sleep. Except, now he usually starts as soon as he finishes therapy, so it's more like he gets drunk every afternoon. It's bad Mac. He's smart enough not to show up drunk for his therapy, and I'm afraid for when he goes back into the field next week."  
  
"He's going back so soon?" Mac asked shocked.  
  
"This_ is_ Harm we're talking about. Being on medical leave has been driving him nuts and he's lined up an appointment with the Company docs next week to get cleared for field status again. His leg still isn't one hundred percent, but he's not limping that much anymore and he's done quite a bit to build up the new muscle tissue. He pushes himself too hard sometimes."  
  
Mac sighed. She knew Harm had been angry and bitter, but she hadn't wanted to admit that he'd given in to his demons. She didn't know what she would do now, but she knew she'd have to help him through it. "Wouldn't they do something at the CIA if they knew he was spending all his time drunk?"  
  
"Harm's smarter than that Mac. He doesn't drink on ops, and he never shows up for work drunk. And please, every field agent has nightmares they need medicine to get through. You should know that from your time with Webb." Beth knew that Mac wasn't with Webb anymore; she'd forced it out of Webb one day a week ago after she got back from watching Harm do his physio.  
  
Blowing out a sigh through pursed lips, Mac thought quickly. "Six thirty, Ed's Embarcadero?"  
  
"Yes." Beth said with a smile. It seemed Mac was willing to play ball.  
  
"He hasn't been going through this alone?" Mac asked next.  
  
"I've been here everyday that he has." Beth answered honestly.  
  
"Thank you for that." Mac said contritely. "I wish it could have been me, but I'm glad he hasn't had to do this alone."  
  
"You're welcome. Now, he's going to be out soon, and I don't think he should see you yet. Give him some time to unwind, he's usually pretty aggressive after his treatments. Has something to do with all that testosterone he stirs up pushing himself harder than a human should."  
  
"I'll see you tonight Ms. O'Neil. Thank you for this." Mac said her gratitude evident.  
  
"It's Beth. And just make sure you don't hurt him any more than he already is, or you and I are going to have words."  
  
Mac nodded silently and then turned to walk back to her car. As she was walking away Beth called out to her "Mac?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Do you love him?"  
  
Mac bit her lip as she thought for a moment before answering. "More than anything."  
  
"Good. Just make sure you remember that when you talk to him." Beth answered and then moved back towards the doors. 


	19. Chapter 18

A/N: Alright, this one took a bit longer than I thought to get out, but here it is.  
  
A/N 2: For those curious, Ed's Embarcadero is a real restaurant, just not in Washington. Ed's is located in Calgary, Alberta. If you find yourself in that neck of the woods I highly recommend it. The food is incredible.  
**  
A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 18_  
  
Harm sat staring at his menu without really seeing it. He, Beth and Allison had been at the restaurant for about half an hour and he still hadn't decided what he wanted to eat. Both the women were starting to look at him a little strangely. As much as he didn't want to admit it, his mind was on his rehab, and how much it hurt Mac had not come to see him. With a snort he forced himself to focus on the menu and picked the first thing his eyes came across. "Linguini with shrimp and oyster sauce." He grunted at the waiter who was patiently waiting for him to make up his mind. "And another beer." He added looking at his almost empty glass.  
  
"Harm, that's your third one. I think you need to slow down." Beth said cautiously. She knew better than to wake the sleeping dragon that Harm was, in regards to his drinking. Harm just chose to ignore her and drained the remainder of his beer staring glumly at the table. He hadn't said a whole lot since he finished rehab earlier in the day.  
  
He was so focused on the table that he didn't notice how annoyed Beth seemed to be getting. Finally she tossed her napkin on the table and said "Would you please excuse us Allison." and poked Harm in the arm.  
  
"What?" he said irritably.  
  
"Come with me. There's something you need to do."  
  
"I've got another beer coming." He said absently.  
  
"It'll keep. Come on partner, you need to do this."  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"You can keep asking questions, or you can come with me." Beth said airily as she walked towards the front door. Harm just shrugged and looked at Allison, not getting anything in response, he followed Beth.  
  
Outside was a spacious wrap around veranda that encircled the house turned restaurant. Beth had stepped out onto the veranda and had moved to a corner where she could look over the river. Harm slowly made his way towards her. He never would have said anything to her, but his leg was killing him and it was all he could do to keep from limping. He didn't need Beth or Allison or anyone else worrying about him, damn it. "What's this all about?" he growled when he got close enough.  
  
"You. I would like to register a complaint about my dinner companion. He's grumpy, snide and downright rude. I was wondering if I could exchange him for someone else. I used to know this guy, Harmon Rabb. Nice guy, sweet, charming, always had a funny thing to say when the occasion demanded. Now, I bet that man was a hell of a dinner date." Beth said without looking at him.  
  
"Can't help you." Harm leaned against the rail and looked out over the river.  
  
"What happened to you Harm?" Beth asked quietly. "You've changed so much since you first showed up at the Company."  
  
"No offense Beth, I'm not going to discuss this with you." Harm said coldly. He'd be damned if he talked about it with anyone.  
  
"I know, I know. The Company's "don't ask, don't tell" policy. But damn it Harm, it hurts me to watch you try to kill yourself." Beth said honestly.  
  
"I'm not suicidal." Harm replied with indignation.  
  
"Could have fooled me, Harm. Between the risky missions, and the heavy drinking, I'm surprised you haven't taken up smoking and playing Russian Roulette for fun."  
  
"Beth...don't start." Harm sighed. "Look, I'm sorry. This was a mistake, I shouldn't be here. Apologize to Allison for me."  
  
"Harm..." Beth started but Harm held up his hand and turned to walk away only to stop short. Beth finally turned around from the river to see Mac standing a little further back watching them. "Finally." She muttered under her breath. "Colonel MacKenzie. Nice to see you again." She added with more cheer in her voice.  
  
"And you Beth." Mac said in a neutral tone of voice.  
  
"What the fuck are you doing here MacKenzie?" Harm growled. "Beth? Am I going to have to kill you?"  
  
Beth should have known that Harm would see through her right from the start, but it was for his own good. Mac simply held her tongue for a moment, waiting until she was alone with Harm. "Excuse me, I need to get back to Allison. Beth said gently. She wanted to help her friend, and she hoped he would forgive her for caring for him.  
  
After Beth left, Mac stepped up to the rail to look out over the river. She stood a short distance away from Harm; close enough to have a conversation, but not too close to appear intimate. "It's good to see you too, Harm."  
  
"Well now you can see me leave." Harm muttered and tried to spin around. His leg chose that exact moment to give way with a twinge and he had to grab onto the rail to keep upright.  
  
"Hey...take it easy there sailor." Mac said automatically.  
  
"Go fuck yourself." Harm spat angrily.  
  
Mac was shocked. She knew Harm was bitter and angry, but to know it and confront it when he was fully conscious was another thing. She could also smell the beer on him, and was not surprised at that from what Beth had said. "Look, your leg is bound to be bothering you still, even with rehab. Just sit down for a moment." Mac tried to be reasonable.  
  
Harm grudgingly sat down on a nearby bench and watched warily as Mac stepped closer. "Don't bother wasting your time MacKenzie. We'll both be happier if you just leave."  
  
"You know, I told you already that I was more than capable of deciding what makes me happy." Mac said with a quiet determination.  
  
"Whatever." Harm ran his hands along his calf trying to ease the pain in his leg.  
  
Mac was silent for a few minutes trying to decide how to best go about this. She'd managed to convince herself that she needed to talk to him the day before. She'd even convinced herself to go see him at the rehab clinic. She'd let Beth talk her into coming to the restaurant tonight to talk to him, and now here he was, and here she was, and she still didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry I didn't come to see you while you were in the clinic." She said softly. Might as well start it off on the right note.  
  
"Nothing said you had to come." Harm muttered. He'd be damned if he let her see how much she'd hurt him one more time.  
  
"But I wanted to come Harm, why is that so hard for you to see?"  
  
Harm stood up quickly and limped a few paces before he turned around and glared at Mac. "You just don't get it, do you?"  
  
"You haven't given me anything to 'get' Harm."  
  
"No. I'm not going to do this with you. Not this time." Harm said as he shook his head viciously. "Not anymore."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm not going to let you draw me into a fight. God damn it! It's been a year and I still let you put me in these positions." Harm shouted as he slammed his open hand against the wall. Immediately the front door opened and a concerned Maitre D' looked out at them. Harm turned and glared at him until he scooted back inside.  
  
"Well you've certainly perfected your scowl." Mac said angrily.  
  
"Look MacKenzie, I'm going to ask you one more time. Why are you here?"  
  
"Because I thought it was time we talked."  
  
"I told you before, we did all our talking."  
  
"Fine, I'll talk, you listen. Sit down Harm, you're going to do more damage to that leg of yours."  
  
Harm looked at Mac for a moment before shrugging. He really wasn't in the mood for this, ever, but right now his leg was killing him. And the last thing he wanted was to fall on his face in front of anyone, least of all Sarah 'Dangle Him on a String' MacKenzie.  
  
"First off, I am sorry I didn't get in to see you while you were in rehab. I really wanted to be there with you, but I was called out to the Wake Island for an investigation."  
  
"Must have been a hell of a long investigation. I don't remember seeing you at the hospital after that one visit either." Harm snapped and then bit his tongue. Cool it Rabb, the last thing you need is for her to see how much she's hurting you.  
  
"You can thank your good buddy Webb for that one. He had me barred from the floor. Actually he had everyone from JAG barred from the floor." Mac said snidely.  
  
"Spider ain't no buddy of mine. Probably just wanted to keep you to himself."  
  
"Damn it Harm!" Mac snapped. "When are you going to get it through that rock thick skull of yours I'm NOT with Webb."  
  
"Right. Just had a whole bunch of dinners and dates with him. No that's fine, that's alright. As you've pointed out in the past I have no say over who you see." Harm rolled his eyes and then banged his hand on the wall again. When the Maitre D' came storming out of the restaurant Harm just glared at him again. "Bring me a beer." He ordered curtly.  
  
"Belay that." Mac nearly shouted at the poor man. She sighed at his confused expression. "Water would be better, thank you."  
  
"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Harm shouted as he shot up from his seat. He really wasn't prepared for Mac to shove him back down solidly. And he really wasn't in a position to do anything about it with his leg acting up.  
  
"Keep your seat, cowboy. And you will not be drinking in front of me."  
  
"I'll drink wherever the hell I damn well feel like drinking!" Harm was still shouting. People passing by on the street were stopping to look at him as he ranted.  
  
"No Harm, you won't. I've heard all about your drinking and that is something else you and I are going to have to talk about."  
  
"Who the fuck gave you the right?" Harm groused.  
  
"I did. Now you can rant and rave all you want Rabb, but I came here to be heard, and by God I will be heard." Mac the Marine snapped.  
  
Harm stood back up and took a step closer to her with storms brewing in his eyes. "Now you listen to me good MacKenzie, and you hear me clear. You made a choice to be out of my life, and I fucking listened to you. So don't think because I'm all wounded and vulnerable you can waltz back in. You wanted to move on, move on."  
  
"Why you arrogant, self serving bastard. I can't move on, you won't let me!" Mac shouted back. "Don't think I haven't tried. But every time it just keeps coming back to you. The men I am interested in aren't good enough because they aren't the great and mighty Harmon Rabb." Mac bit her tongue as soon as the words were out. It was her last intention to let Harm know that she still pined over him.  
  
For the first time Mac saw something other than anger or bitterness in Harm's eyes. She saw uncertainty. He quickly masked it again and stepped back from where he had been standing just inches away from her. Mac struggled to get her heartbeat, her breathing, under control. She doubted very much that Harm was feeling the same things she was.  
  
Suddenly Harm reached out and firmly guided her head towards his and pressed a hard, angry kiss on her lips. "Well, if it's my permission you need, fine. You have it. Be with whoever you want." Harm muttered as he pulled away and then spun and limped back towards the door, pushing past the poor Maitre D' who had come out just then with two waters.  
  
As Harm walked away once more Mac slowly sunk down to the bench he had so recently vacated. "But I want to be with you." She whispered. 


	20. Chapter 19

A/N: This is the betaed and corrected edition of Chapter 19. Enjoy.**  
  
A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 19_  
  
Harm angrily jabbed his key into the ignition and started his Corvette. Gunning the engine a little, he peeled out of the parking lot not even seeing Mac watch him storm off once more. As he drove away from the restaurant he didn't realize how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles started to ache. Consciously relaxing his grip a little he began swearing to himself.  
  
Who the hell did they think they were? What the hell gave them the right? He just knew both Beth and Mac were involved; she didn't just 'happen' to know which restaurant Beth was taking him to. Damn them. Why the hell couldn't they leave him alone?  
  
Tugging the wheel to the right, Harm flew around a corner and pushed the accelerator down a bit more to open the engine up. He wasn't even paying attention to his speed as he pounded on the steering wheel and cursed.  
  
Why? Why wouldn't she just accept that he let her go? Why couldn't she move on? She said he wouldn't let her, but he was trying. God, it hurt, but he was trying. He had tried to forget her, when he was doing his training, when he was with the SEALs and SAS, but he couldn't. Still, as time had gone on his remembering became less painful; never gone, always there, but it didn't tear at his heart as much. Then he'd seen her again, at the restaurant with Webb, in Iraq on the op, at the Roberts house for AJ's party. Every time he saw her it hurt a little more. Every time he saw her those feelings grew.  
  
Now she was seeking him out, rubbing in that pain.  
  
"FUCK!" Harm screamed as he swerved to get around another car. At least the 'vette handled well.  
  
Feeling frustrated he tromped down on the brake as he hit a red light. When the light changed to green, Harm floored the car and flew through the gears as he rocketed to a speed he was comfortable with. God he needed a drink.  
  
Harm had been driving for awhile and hadn't even noticed that he wasn't anywhere near his apartment. Apparently his mind didn't want him to go home yet. Fine, he still needed to blow off the steam that he'd built up after being ambushed by Mac.  
  
For an hour Harm drove around; at times pushing his car to its limits, other times crawling along as he drove lost in thought. A part of him that he thought had died was speaking to him, telling him to go to her, telling him how much he needed to be with her. Furious with himself, Harm tried to force that voice back down where he'd buried it a year before.  
  
Mac had been sitting outside Harm's apartment for almost an hour; 47 minutes and 12 seconds to be exact. She'd figured he'd either head home or to the Wall after peeling out of the parking lot like that. She'd gone to the Wall first and didn't find him there, then she came to his apartment. Still no sign of Harm though, and she was starting to get anxious. She'd thought about leaving on and off the whole time she was here. Finally she opened her car door and steeled herself. Quickly she made her way across the street and up to Harm's apartment. After knocking and waiting for five minutes she pulled out her "emergency" key and carefully opened his door. Carefully, she moved into his apartment and called out "Harm?" She stood just inside the door waiting for an answer for two minutes. Slowly, comma she stepped further into the apartment and closed the door. Sitting down on the couch she decided to wait for him to come home. After awhile she laid down to do her waiting, it wasn't long before she fell asleep.  
  
Mac wasn't sure how long she'd been laying there when the ringing of her cell phone interrupted her sleep. Fumbling, she found her purse on the floor and pulled out her phone. "MacKenzie." she answered groggily.  
  
"I'm sorry, is this Sarah MacKenzie?"  
  
"Yes it is. Who is this?" Mac asked in confusion. She didn't recognize the voice and she didn't give her cell phone number out to many people.  
  
"This is George Washington Hospital, we have a patient in emergency who has listed you as their next of kin..."  
  
Mac's breath caught at the words, she was wide awake now. "Harm? Is he alright?" she asked in a hurry.  
  
"I'm sorry I don't have any information...." The calm voice began.  
  
"I'm on my way there!" Mac said hastily and then hung up on the doctor. As she rushed out of Harm's apartment she thought for a moment about phoning the Admiral but decided to hold off for now. She'd see how bad it was before she phoned anyone else. The drive to the hospital was a blur as she pushed traffic laws to the very breaking point. Sliding into a parking spot she flew from her car into the emergency room waiting area.  
  
Running up to the nurse's station Mac looked at the elderly lady behind the desk. "I'm looking for a Harmon Rabb."  
  
"One moment please...ah yes. He's in exam room 3." the elderly nurse said in a neutral tone of voice. "Doctor Warren is with him right now."  
  
Mac quickly stepped away from the station and started looking for exam room 3 wherever that was. As she looked around in confusion a short chubby man stepped up to her. "Ms. MacKenzie?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm Doctor Warren. Elise told me someone was looking for Mr. Rabb. Right this way please." the doctor said politely and then led Mac towards a room down the hall. Outside the room he stopped and then put a gentle hand on Mac's arm. "Ms. MacKenzie, before we go in I feel I should warn you Mr. Rabb was in a car accident, and he looks a lot worse than he really is. The most significant injury he sustained was a blow to his head which appears to have caused a significant concussion. Other than that it is mostly bumps and bruises, though he does have some cracked ribs as well. You may notice he will have difficulty breathing until those ribs heal if he's not careful."  
  
Mac took a deep breath at the doctor's diagnosis. The concussion was the most serious thing; especially considering he'd had so many in his life. "A concussion?"  
  
"Yes. Now he's still unconscious so maybe you can answer some questions for me before we go in?"  
  
"I want to see him first, and then I'll answer your questions." Mac said with steel in her voice.  
  
"Really, it is in Mr. Rabb's best interest to have the questions answered as soon as possible." the doctor said without missing a beat. Whoever this woman was, the doctor had dealt with worse in the GW emergency room.  
  
"Damn it doctor, if you don't get out of my way you'll be visiting your own emergency room!" Mac thundered in her best AJ Chegwidden impersonation. "I'll answer all your questions after I see him."  
  
Doctor Warren unconsciously took a step back from this slender lady in front of him. Perhaps he hadn't dealt with worse before. "Very well, but I will not be held accountable..."  
  
"I'm not going to sue you doctor, and I waive the right to do so. Just let me in to see him."  
  
Doctor Warren reached out and slowly opened the door, standing aside to let Mac enter the room. Cautiously she stepped inside and stopped with a small cry. She brought her hand to her mouth at the sight of Harm laying in the hospital bed all battered and bruised with a bandage wrapped around his head. With hurried steps she crossed the distance to his bedside carefully putting her hand to his forehead to brush the hair from his eyes. For the first time she really noticed how shaggy it was, or maybe it was just the way it stuck up from under the bandages. "Oh Harm." she said softly. "This is becoming too much of a habit with you."  
  
After a few minutes of watching his chest rise and fall in time to the beeping of the machines surrounding him, Mac turned back to the doctor. "What are your questions doctor?"  
  
"Perhaps we should step outside..."  
  
"No, ask them here." Mac said steadily.  
  
"Very well." the doctor said with a sigh. "During my examination I noticed that his back is covered in fresh scars, as well as a number of old scars. Do you know the nature of these wounds?"  
  
"It was..." Mac started only to be interrupted.  
  
"A workplace injury." a familiar voice said as Clayton Webb strode into the room.  
  
"And you are?" the doctor asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"A representative of his employer." Webb said with a smirk.  
  
"And the scars on his leg?"  
  
"The result of reconstructive surgery brought about by the same injury." Webb answered again.  
  
"Has Mr. Rabb suffered any concussions in the past?"  
  
"Yes." Webb answered before Mac could get a word in. She was beginning to glare at him without bothering to hide her aggravation.  
  
"How many and how severe?"  
  
"About five." Mac answered quickly. "And quite severe. He used to fly fighter jets."  
  
"Ah. That would explain why he is still unconscious."  
  
"Doctor? Care to explain to those of us not in the medical profession?" Webb asked.  
  
"If Mr. Rabb has a history of concussions he may be in more danger than we previously thought. The more one suffers from concussions, even little ones, the more dangerous they become. I am going to admit Mr. Rabb for observation over night and hopefully we'll see him wake up soon." the doctor said with a brisk nod to no one in particular.  
  
"Oh my God doctor, I didn't even think to ask, how are the others involved in the accident?" Mac asked quickly.  
  
"As far as I know there was no other vehicle. The EMTs only mentioned Mr. Rabb. There is a police officer waiting to get a statement from Mr. Rabb, I'll ask him to come back in the morning and hopefully Mr. Rabb will be able to answer the officer's questions."  
  
As Webb opened his mouth to say something, Mac put her hand on the doctor's arm. "May I speak to the officer please?" she said before Webb could speak.  
  
"I don't see why not. He should be in the cafeteria. Up two floors, make a right off the elevators." the doctor provided.  
  
"Thank you doctor." Mac said warmly. She was still worried about Harm, but not as much as she had been on the hurried drive over. "I should be back before he's ready to be moved to a room."  
  
"You're probably right Ms. MacKenzie."  
  
As Mac made her way to the elevators she found Webb following her. "What do you want?" she hissed at him.  
  
"I'm curious what this police officer has to say."  
  
"What are you doing here anyway?"  
  
"Just concerned for the well being of a co-worker."  
  
"How did you even know?" Mac asked in confusion. "Did Harm list you as a next of kin as well?" she added sarcastically.  
  
"Oh, I'm not so lucky as you. I had to rely on a guy, who knows a guy, who keeps an eye on hospitals for me." Webb said with a smirk as they entered the elevators.  
  
Silently the two rode up to the third floor. Making their way to the cafeteria, they immediately spotted the officer nursing a coffee and looking bored. Mac quickly stepped up to him, before Webb could, and cleared her throat. "Excuse me, are you waiting to speak to Harmon Rabb?"  
  
"Yeah, but you aren't him." the police officer said in a tired voice.  
  
"I'm sorry, I'm Sarah MacKenzie, his attorney. Could you please tell me about the accident?"  
  
"Who's he?" the police officer said with a nod in Webb's direction.  
  
"He works with Mr. Rabb." Mac said, knowing Clayton would not want her to divulge his CIA connections.  
  
"Well it appears that Mr. Rabb was in a single vehicle accident on the Beltway. We're not too sure of what happened yet, but he rolled his car and was apparently thrown clear. We found him a good twenty feet from the wreckage. It's too bad really. That car of his was something, not sure what's going hurt him more. His head or knowing his car is totalled. Is he awake?"  
  
"No, not yet. The doctor is going to come speak with you in a moment about that. Is there anything else you can tell me?" Mac asked after sighing. She silently agreed with the cop. Harm was probably going to be more upset about losing his 'vette, especially after restoring her completely by hand.  
  
"Not until we speak to Mr. Rabb." the cop answered. Glancing at the clock on the wall he sighed. "I'll be back in the morning to see if Mr. Rabb has come around then. No point in sitting on my hands now, and its not like he's going anywhere. Excuse me, there's the doctor now."  
  
As the cop walked away Mac looked at Webb carefully. "Do you know what happened tonight?" she asked coldly.  
  
"What am I, his babysitter? All I know is he was scheduled to come in soon for final clearance to return to work. Haven't seen him since his debrief. Thought you might know." Webb added bitterly.  
  
Mac looked at Webb carefully. Somewhere in the back of her mind something didn't seem right, but she didn't know what. "Webb, if I find out you're holding out on me, so help me God."  
  
"Sarah, would I hold out on you?" Webb asked.  
  
"Yes, you would if it suited your purposes. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go sit with Harm." Mac said as she moved away from the spy.  
  
"You know, he doesn't even talk about you anymore." Webb called out.  
  
"Excuse me?" Mac asked frostily.  
  
"Harm. He doesn't talk about you, at all. Hasn't since he came to work for us. And I know he didn't tell you where he was. Seems to me he's moved on Sarah. Shouldn't you?"  
  
Mac spun around and rapidly closed the distance between her and Webb. Reaching out she poked a hard finger into his chest. "Look Webb, my relationship with Harm is none of your damn business, it never has been. Harm's moving on or not, and my moving on or not is something he and I are going to have to discuss. Not you and I, not you and him. Stay the hell out of it."  
  
Holding his hands up in the air Webb stepped back a half step. "Sarah, darling, I'm just trying to watch out for you. You know I care about you."  
  
Coldly, Mac glared at Webb. "You don't care about me, you can't. You only care about yourself and your job, and you only watch out for yourself Webb. Stay the hell away from me."  
  
Spinning on her heel she strode briskly towards the elevator to return to the ER and Harm. " OH, and don't call me darling." she shot back over her shoulder. "Unless you want to find out what it feels like to have your large intestine nailed to a wall."  
  
If she would have looked back at Webb before she got on the elevator she would have seen something on his face few have seen; blind, mad rage. 


	21. Chapter 20

** A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 20_  
  
Harm struggled to open his eyes. Faintly in the background he heard a heart rate monitor beeping away. For the life of him he didn't know where he was or how he'd gotten there. He couldn't hold back the moan that he let out as he looked around briefly. A hospital, again.  
  
"Harm?" Mac said softly.  
  
"Where am I?" Harm asked groggily.  
  
"George Washington. Harm you were in a car accident and the police want to talk to you when you're ready." Mac said carefully. She still wasn't sure how coherent Harm was.  
  
"Ah." he said simply and closed his eyes again. After a moment he opened them again and slowly turned his head towards where her voice was coming from. "Why are you here?" he asked bluntly.  
  
"They called me when they brought you in. Apparently I'm still listed as your next of kin." Mac said. That was something she wanted to talk to him about, but it could wait.  
  
"Ah." Harm said again as he once more closed his eyes. Mac waited for him to add more, but his breathing evened out and she knew he'd gone back to sleep. It was the first time he'd woken up since she'd gotten there, and she'd been sitting in his room for hours. She'd called the Admiral to inform him that she wouldn't be in today because she needed to take an emergency family leave. At first he'd argued with her, but when she explained that Harm had been in an accident he gave in and granted her the day. She wasn't sure, but it looked like the Admiral was regretting his decision not to take Harm back and was taking it hard.  
  
Mac looked up at someone gently clearing their throat to see Doctor Warren standing in the doorway. "Doctor." she greeted him as she stood up and stretched.  
  
"Ms. MacKenzie, has he woken up yet?"  
  
"Just for a moment not too long ago." Mac said quietly. "He was pretty groggy, not too sure of what's going on."  
  
"Probably has a lot to do with the drugs we're pumping into him. Where'd the suit go?"  
  
"Webb? Oh he's probably around in a shadow somewhere." Mac said bitterly. "Shouldn't he be waking up soon?" she added looking at Harm.  
  
The doctor couldn't help but notice the look in Mac's eyes when she gazed at his patient. That, coupled with the fact that they couldn't budge her from his room spoke volumes. "He'll wake up when he's ready. Are you and Mr. Rabb close?"  
  
Mac sighed sadly as she considered the doctor's question. "We were, a long time ago." She answered softly.  
  
"Well you obviously still care." The doctor said placing a hand on her shoulder.  
  
"Sometimes caring isn't enough doctor." Mac said as she struggled with the tears she felt welling up.  
  
"Sometimes it's all you need, Ms. MacKenzie. Or should I be calling you Colonel MacKenzie?" Doctor Warren asked with a smile.  
  
Mac looked over her shoulder at the doctor with her confusion evident in her eyes. "I heard you speaking to your Admiral earlier. I didn't realize Mr. Rabb was in the military." Doctor Warren answered her unspoken question.  
  
"He's not, at least not right now. He used to be a Commander in the Navy." Mac supplied as she sank back down into her seat.  
  
"Have you known him long?"  
  
"Almost nine years. We worked together for eight of those. He was the best partner, the best friend, anyone could ask for, better than I'm likely to ever see again."  
  
"What happened?" Doctor Warren prompted.  
  
Mac looked up from gazing at Harm to study the doctor. It really wasn't any of his damn business what had happened between her and Harm, but for once it helped to talk about it. It was almost like she was talking to Harm. Maybe somewhere in there he could hear her, finally hear what she had to say. "It's a long story."  
  
"Well my rotation is almost up, and I have a feeling you're not going anywhere."  
  
"Well the not so long version is that Harm gave up everything he'd ever struggled for to save someone. Don't get me wrong, its not unusual for Harm to find a cause and go crusading until he accomplished the goals he'd set for himself." Mac started her story. Over the next couple hours she told the doctor about Harm and his crusades. She told him about the search for Harm's father, his struggle to save Darlin, the quest to find the truth about Jimmy Blackhorse, and everything else she could think of, or had heard about him. She didn't mention Paraguay again though.  
  
When she was done the doctor was busy looking between Harm and Mac. "I'm tempted to accuse you of pulling my leg."  
  
"Trust me doctor, if I wasn't there for most of them I wouldn't believe it either."  
  
"You say he was a lawyer?"  
  
"And a pilot."  
  
"Tinker, tailor, soldier, spy." The doctor said shaking his head.  
  
"Something like that. But I don't sew worth a damn." came a mumbled answer.  
  
"Harm!" Mac called joyously.  
  
"Power down MacKenzie, my head feels like its three sizes too small." Harm grumbled.  
  
"Welcome back Mr. Rabb. I'm Doctor Warren; I've been helping Ms. MacKenzie here look after you." The doctor said with a smile as he moved closer to check Harm's vitals.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"You were in an accident on the Beltway. Apparently you decided to throw yourself from your vehicle and gave yourself a concussion. Or should I say another concussion?"  
  
"I collect them. Everyone needs a hobby, right?" Harm said with a bitter little smile followed quickly by a grimace as the pain in his head hit him anew.  
  
"I might suggest looking for another one Mr. Rabb. You're lucky to wake up after this concussion. I'm going to see if I can go schedule you for a CAT scan as soon as possible. You may also be in some pain when you breath; you've got three cracked ribs, as well as minor bumps and bruises. Excuse me, Mr. Rabb. Ms. MacKenzie, it has been very enlightening, and very entertaining."  
  
After the doctor left Mac pulled her chair closer to Harm's bed and put her hand on top of his. She wasn't surprised when he pulled his hand away from hers. "Take it easy there Harm. Don't want to go hurting yourself again."  
  
"Why are you...no I asked that already, didn't I?"  
  
"You did." Mac struggled to keep the frustration out of her voice. Now was not the time to pick a fight with Harm.  
  
"Well, thanks for coming. Don't want to keep you."  
  
"I'm not going anywhere. The Admiral gave me the day to look after you."  
  
"Don't strain yourself MacKenzie." Harm tossed out as he rolled painfully over onto his side so he wouldn't have to look at her.  
  
"I won't." Mac said with a hint of anger. "Look, there's a police officer who wants to take a statement, I'll go see if he's still lurking around."  
  
As Mac reached the doorway Harm thought of something. "Mac?"  
  
"What?" Mac snapped as she looked over her shoulder. She didn't even notice it was the first time he called her Mac instead of MacKenzie in awhile.  
  
"The doctor said I was in an accident. Were there any other people hurt?"  
  
"You don't remember?"  
  
"Nothing. Last thing I remember is leaving the restaurant."  
  
"There was no other car Harm. It was a single vehicle accident. You were the only injury."  
  
"Good." Harm said as Mac left the room.  
  
When the door opened again a few minutes later Harm expected Mac to be bringing the police officer in, but the steps he heard come into the room weren't hers. Craning his neck a little Harm looked back towards the door and saw Webb standing just inside the room.  
  
"Ah shit Spider, can't I get any time away from you?" Harm asked with a sigh.  
  
"Just looking out for a fellow agent Rabb." Webb said lowly. "Do you remember anything about what happened?"  
  
"Doc says I was in an accident." Harm said.  
  
"Any details?" Webb pressed.  
  
"Not really." Harm said after trying to dredge up something, anything. "Nothing after leaving the restaurant."  
  
"Good." Webb said under his breath.  
  
"What's that?" Harm asked. It sounded to him like Webb had said 'Good'.  
  
"That's too bad. Well I'll let you get your rest." Webb said hurriedly when he heard Mac's voice in the hall approaching Harm's room. "Take it easy Ghost."  
  
And with that he was gone. Mac saw him slip from the room and stopped in the middle of the hallway with a frown. "Ma'am?" the young police officer said to her when she stopped.  
  
"Sorry? Oh...I apologize officer. I just thought I saw someone I'd hoped to never see again." Mac said as she started moving towards Harm's room again. The police officer just followed quietly behind her.  
  
"Harm? This is Officer Gomez, he's here to ask you some questions about your accident." Mac said softly as she entered the room.  
  
"Good morning Mr. Rabb. I'm sorry to have to do this so soon after waking up, but I'm sure you want to get this out of the way as soon as I do. Colonel, if we could have a minute please?"  
  
"Sorry Officer, I'm not going anywhere. I'm Mr. Rabb's attorney." Mac said stubbornly.  
  
"Alright then." Officer Gomez said before Harm could react to Mac's statement. "Mr. Rabb, do you remember anything about the accident at all?"  
  
"I'm sorry, I've been trying, but I can't remember anything." Harm said with the frustration clear in his voice.  
  
"What were you doing this evening before the accident?"  
  
"I'd gone out for dinner with some friends."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Ed's Embarcadero."  
  
"Did you have anything to drink with your dinner?"  
  
Harm had been waiting for this question. Undoubtedly the hospital had done a blood alcohol test when they'd brought him in. "A few beers."  
  
"How many are a few Mr. Rabb?"  
  
"Four...maybe five." Harm answered evasively. He couldn't look at Mac as he answered the cop's questions. Wasn't the Agency supposed to be here to cover for him?  
  
"You're not sure?" Officer Gomez pressed.  
  
"Five."  
  
"Five beers and you got behind the wheel of your car Mr. Rabb?"  
  
"I was distracted."  
  
"By what?"  
  
"I'd had a fight with someone." Harm grunted. He could feel Mac's eyes boring into him from across the room.  
  
"Mr. Rabb, I'm going to go find your doctor and get the results of the blood alcohol test they administered when you were admitted. I need to warn you that in all likelihood it appears that you will be brought up on charges for driving under the influence." The cop said with his disgust unmasked. He spun on his heel and left Harm's hospital room.  
  
Shortly after the cop left he heard Mac walk quickly to the door, slamming it behind her as she left. 


	22. Chapter 21

** A Man Called Ghost **  
_  
Chapter 21_  
  
Harm was quiet the whole way back to his apartment. The police officer had returned informing him his blood alcohol level was 0.06, meaning he was not legally drunk and would not be charged with driving under the influence. However he would have to go to the police station tomorrow morning and make a formal statement; hopefully he would remember more details.  
  
Mac was getting tired of biting her tongue. The anger that she had first felt when Harm revealed how much he'd had to drink before getting behind the wheel of his car had faded to the dull ache of disappointment. Disappointment in herself for not wanting to notice how bad it was with Harm, and disappointment in Harm for giving in to his demons with a bottle.  
  
She'd paced the hospital for a good hour before the Doctor had found her to inform her that he was ready to release Harm on the understanding he would have to come back later that week for a check up. Signing the papers she'd gone back to get Harm and after a short argument, convinced him to let her drive him home.  
  
"We need to talk." She finally said as they pulled up to Harm's apartment.  
  
"We've said all we need to say." He muttered in reply.  
  
"No, no we haven't. I've had a year to realize how much more there is to say." Mac disagreed.  
  
"Not now, I'm not in the mood." Harm tried again.  
  
"Fine, you don't have to say a thing. I'll talk and you listen." Mac said angrily.  
  
After a moment's consideration Harm just shook his head and gingerly got out of the car. Mac was stunned at his lack of response, his lack of argument. Harm never just gave up. Quickly she got out of the car and moved towards the door to the building as Harm disappeared inside. With a yank, Mac opened the door and followed Harm into the building.  
  
"Harm? Damn it Harm, stop and look at me."  
  
"I told you, there's nothing more to say." Harm said as he rounded on Mac. "You had your say, I took you at your word, and that was it." With a sigh he turned and started making his way back to the elevator, swearing when he discovered the sign proclaiming it was out of order.  
  
Mac wasn't about to back down now, after she'd screwed up her courage to go to the restaurant the night before. "There's a lot we need to talk about Harm, and we're going to do it now, either in your apartment or here in the hallway, you decide.  
  
As soon as the words were out of her mouth she knew Harm would call her on it. "Fine. Talk."  
  
Looking around Mac eyed the wide hallway and shrugged her shoulders. "Alright if this is how you want it, we'll do it here. What the hell were you thinking Rabb!? Getting behind the wheel after you've had five beers? I thought you were smarter than that."  
  
"Look, I wasn't drunk. I know when I'm drunk." Harm said defensively. As his elderly downstairs neighbor came down the hallway with a smile for them both, Harm changed his mind. "I'm going upstairs."  
  
Mac chased after Harm as soon as his feet started to move. She'd get back to the drinking later. "So why haven't you stayed in touch?"  
  
"I told you before, it's better for everyone if I don't." Harm said enigmatically as he opened the door to his apartment.  
  
"I don't think so. Bud and Harriet don't think so, Sturgis doesn't think so. Harm, we all want you in our lives, even if you're not at JAG."  
  
"Right. Well that's not the impression I got."  
  
"What made you think we didn't want you in our...in my life?" Mac asked.  
  
"Paraguay." Harm said quietly. He knew he didn't want to have this conversation with her, and it would hurt her a lot less if he hurt her now than let her resume her place in the center of his world.  
  
Mac looked like he'd punched her at his single low word. "Paraguay?"  
  
"Damn it Mac." Harm shouted slamming his hand down on the counter. "Yes, Paraguay. You and Webb looked to be so close, so comfortable with each other." He spat out.  
  
"Harm, you know what its like when you face danger, it brings you closer together with the person you faced it with." Mac tried reasoning with him.  
  
"Well I could certainly see how close it brought you two." Harm reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of water. His head was killing him and each breath still brought a twinge of pain. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the pain killers the doctor had given him and downed two of them.  
  
"There's nothing between Clay and I, Harm. Honestly, we're just friends."  
  
"Great, well, we're just friends and that hasn't stopped me from" Harm bit down on his tongue as he thought about what he was saying.  
  
"Hasn't stopped you from what?" Mac asked quietly, stepping closer.  
  
"Nothing. It's not important. Anyway, haven't we beat this to death already?" Harm muttered as he finished the water and tossed the bottle in the sink. He reached into a cupboard to pull out a bottle of scotch and set it on the counter, then turned around to get a glass. When he turned back, Mac had picked up the bottle and moved it away from him.  
  
"You're not going to find whatever it is you're looking for in there Harm." She said tenderly.  
  
"What the fuck do you know about what I'm looking for?" Harm thundered as he slammed the glass down on the countertop. "Give me that!"  
  
"I'm sorry Harm. First off, you just took your medication; you don't need to toss some alcohol on top of that. Secondly, I know that no matter what you're looking for, it won't be in this." Mac said holding up the bottle of scotch. She took a moment to take a quick look around the apartment and was suddenly appalled that she hadn't seen how many empty bottles were lying around the place.  
  
"Give me that God damn you!"  
  
"No! I will not. And you don't need it." Mac said taking a step back from Harm. She had no idea how violent he would get if she kept the bottle from him. "How could you Harm?" she asked with the pain evident in her voice.  
  
"How could I what?" he asked bitterly.  
  
"Fall into a bottle? You're stronger than that Harm; I thought you'd learned from my mistakes."  
  
"It's real easy Mac, you know that."  
  
"You're stronger than that Harm, you're stronger than I was." Mac repeated quietly. She needed him to be stronger than that.  
  
With a snort Harm turned his back to her and ran his hand through his matted hair. "No I'm not." He said quietly.  
  
"You are Harm. Please look at me?" Mac pleaded. "I know you Harm, and you're stronger than anyone I've ever met."  
  
"Not anymore." Harm muttered.  
  
"What happened to you?" Mac asked as she set down the bottle and stepped up to place a hand on his arm. She was only mildly surprised when he pulled his arm away like he'd been burned.  
  
With a sigh, Harm shook his head. To answer that question would be to send her running.  
  
"Harm will you do something for me?" Mac asked in a hushed voice.  
  
"I don't know if I can Mac." Harm answered in just as quiet a tone. He didn't even know what she was going to ask, but he knew he didn't have the right to give her anything anymore.  
  
"I know you can Harm, I have faith in you."  
  
"You shouldn't." Harm said bitterly as he stepped away from her.  
  
"I always have." Mac answered as she followed him. "One little thing Harm, that's all I ask for now."  
  
"What?" Harm asked after holding his breath for an eternity.  
  
"Tonight, no more alcohol?"  
  
"I can't do that Mac." Harm answered harshly.  
  
"You can Harm. I know you won't do it for me, but will you do it for yourself?"  
  
"You don't know what you're asking."  
  
"I know exactly what I'm asking Harm. Please?"  
  
"Whatever." Harm mumbled, hoping she wouldn't press it.  
  
"Please Harm? Promise me you won't drink tonight. Just one night." Mac asked as she stepped around him to look up into his eyes.  
  
Harm laughed bitterly when he heard those words. 'Just one night.' How many times had he dreamt of saying the same thing to her? Just one night, please could they be together. The irony of it was almost amusing. "Fine. I promise." He finally agreed. 


	23. Chapter 22

A/N: Alright. I tried to figure out some way to work a length of nylon rope, a small hairless dog and a vat of green jello into this chapter, but just couldn't really make it work. Maybe next time. (For those of you who are now confused, enjoy the moment. I know, however, there are two people laughing!).  
  
A/N 2: Well what do you know? I did find a way to work jello into this chapter!  
  
**A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 22_  
  
With a gasp Harm threw himself from his bed. Slowly he rose to his knees and drew a shuddering breath. Something had caused him to wake up in a hurry. A nightmare he thought as he wearily ran a hand through his sweat dampened hair. He knew they would come, and he knew when he made his promise to Mac, he could do nothing to fight them off. When she finally left, after making him promise one more time not to drink that night, he'd fought with himself and his desire to crawl into the bottle. He'd looked at the bottle of scotch for a long time as it sat on the counter where Mac had left it, fighting down the urge to drink as much as he could. He knew he shouldn't have agreed with her.  
  
With a sigh Harm finished standing up and wandered down into the living room to look out at the street below in thought. There was no way he'd get back to sleep for now, even though he didn't remember anything about the nightmare. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins, driving his racing heart. Putting an arm up against the cool glass he gazed down into the lamp lit street and let his thoughts wander, trying to calm himself. As his eyes drifted over the street his attention kept going back to a single car parked across the street from his building. A silver, newer model Jaguar; not something you would expect to see in his neighborhood. No matter how many times he looked at it and looked away, his eyes kept coming back to it. Something about that car was demanding his attention. Who would park such an expensive car this close to Union Station? Harm was somewhat shocked that the more undesirable elements of this part of town hadn't stripped down that kind of car yet.  
  
Another sigh escaped from Harm's lips as he moved to the couch and put his head in his hands. Something about this nightmare seemed different, not like the others that had been plaguing him. How novel he thought, a new nightmare, and he hadn't killed anyone lately. If only he could figure out what it was that caused him to think this one was different. Ah hell, why even bother? It wasn't like he actually wanted to remember his nightmares, but all too often he did. He should be grateful this one eluded him.  
  
With a muttered curse he slowly stood up and looked at the clock. Three am. Well it was a good thing he didn't have anything planned for the next day; the appointment to see the CIA quacks had been pushed back three days to give his ribs time to heal, and allow him to get cleared by the head docs at GW.  
  
Three days later he was considering not answering his door anymore. For the past two nights Mac had shown up and extracted a promise from him not to drink. He knew he shouldn't make the promise, he knew he wanted to break it, but he also knew he couldn't. He'd broken too many promises to himself over the last year; he couldn't break any to Mac. And each night he'd been plagued by this new nightmare. Last night he'd finally managed to remember snippets from the dream, parts where he was being chased through the jungles of Paraguay. Chased by some kind of silver wild hunting cat. He could remember the fear, the sense of hopelessness that pervaded the dream, but he couldn't remember it all.  
  
The nightmares had kept him awake most of the nights, as a result he wasn't in that great of shape when he had gone in to see the doctor the day before at GW, and he hadn't been in any better shape when he went to see the docs at Langley earlier in the day. They'd been a little concerned, but they still cleared him to return from medical leave on Monday. Chances are he'd be tied to a desk for a little while at first, so his health and lack of sleep shouldn't be a large problem. But damn it he needed a drink, he needed to be able to sleep. Right then and there Harm made a decision. He wouldn't be home tonight when he knew Mac would come by to make her inevitable demands upon him.  
  
Getting up Harm grabbed his keys off the bookcase and strode out of his apartment without even grabbing a jacket. In short order he was in his car driving away from Union Station thinking about where he could go so no one would find him.  
  
After about half an hour later he spotted a dilapidated neon sign proclaiming, "The Pigeon Hole". Not a place he'd been to before a year ago, but since then he'd come here a few times when he wanted to be alone. Pulling up to the curb outside the bar, Harm got out of his car and walked up to the door just as it was flung open from the other side. He had to step lightly to avoid being hit by the drunk that was being ejected by the burly bouncer, but he didn't give the man laying on the sidewalk another look as he passed into the smoky interior.  
  
Grabbing a seat in the back Harm signaled to a passing waitress to get her attention. When the bored looking woman came over he saw a number of small plastic cups filled with what looked like jello on her tray.  
  
"What's your poison?" the waitress asked when she got closer.  
  
"What on earth are those?" Harm asked motioning towards her tray.  
  
"Jello shooters."  
  
"Come again?"  
  
"We make some jello and let it set with alcohol mixed in. Makes for an interesting experience."  
  
"Give me some of those then. I could use interesting."  
  
"How many do you want?"  
  
"However many this will buy me." Harm said tossing a twenty onto the woman's tray.  
  
After the woman had deposited ten of the little cups on Harm's table he picked one up and looked at it curiously. Someone had to be seriously bored to come up with the idea of mixing booze in with jello to create a new type of shot. With a shrug he tipped the plastic shot glass back and ran his tongue around the inside of the cup to dig the jello out. Swallowing he thought he could taste a bit of vodka mixed into the gelatin. Well it certainly went down easier than liquid shots.  
  
It wasn't until the sixth shot had been ingested that Harm felt himself begin to loosen up a little. He leaned back in his chair a bit to look at the four remaining shots before him. It was definitely a different way of taking in the drinks, he thought with a wry chuckle. As he reached for the seventh shot he saw a shadow cross the table and stop. Looking up he couldn't suppress a groan at the sight of Mac.  
  
"Harm." Mac greeted him in a neutral tone of voice.  
  
"What a coincidence." Harm said without any feeling.  
  
"What are you doing?" Mac asked in a deceptively calm tone.  
  
"Eating jello." Harm said as he fought the urge to smile.  
  
"That's an interesting way of eating jello. Anything else in it?"  
  
"Sugar and water I guess."  
  
"Oh Harm." Mac sighed as she sat down across from him. "What are you doing here?"  
  
Slamming the cup back down on the table Harm stared at Mac incredulously. "I thought that would have been obvious."  
  
Mac calmly looked at the empty plastic cups on the table and looked back up at Harm. "How long have you been here?"  
  
"How did you find me?" Harm shot right back.  
  
"I hear things."  
  
"That doesn't answer my question."  
  
"You didn't answer mine."  
  
Harm stared at her for a minute before shrugging his shoulders. "Half an hour, forty five minutes. I'm not sure."  
  
"Is it something the doctors said?" Mac asked quietly.  
  
Shaking his head Harm let out a sharp bark of laughter. "No, they're sending me back to work on Monday. Now how did you find me? You put a tracking signal in my car?"  
  
"Nothing so fancy. A concerned friend gave me some ideas where you'd be when I couldn't find you at your apartment."  
  
"A concerned friend?"  
  
"I can't reveal the identity of my source." Mac said with a hint of a smile.  
  
"I have a few ideas." Harm grunted.  
  
"Why are you doing this Harm? I thought we were getting somewhere." Mac asked seriously. "I thought I was helping you."  
  
"I don't need your help Colonel." Harm snapped.  
  
"Yes, you do Harm. You have a problem, and you need my help to beat it. You can't go it alone Harm, not this time." Mac said reaching out to put her hand over his.  
  
"I fail to see the problem Colonel. So I have a few drinks before I go to bed." Harm said as he snatched his hand out from under hers.  
  
"The way I hear it you get dead drunk and pass out instead of going to bed Harm."  
  
"You don't know anything about me."  
  
"I used to Harm. Remember me, Mac? Your best friend?"  
  
"Past tense Colonel."  
  
"I don't see it that way Harm. The way I see it is that I still want to be your best friend, and that counts for something."  
  
"Whatever you want Colonel." Harm said flippantly as he reached for another shot only to have Mac knock the plastic cup out of his hand and onto the floor. "What the fuck are you doing?" he shouted as he jumped to his feet.  
  
"Helping a friend." Mac said as she stood up with a growing anger in her eyes. "Get up Harm. I'm taking you home."  
  
"Promises, promises. Or would you rather I tossed out a red light?"  
  
"You're drunk." Mac said with a sigh.  
  
"No, actually I'm not, but I wish I was." Harm replied bitterly.  
  
"Why?" Mac asked intently.  
  
"None of your damn business."  
  
"Why do you wish you were drunk Harm?" Mac asked stepping closer to him.  
  
"I said, it's none of your damn business." Harm said with fire flashing in his eyes.  
  
"I want to know Harm. What is it you're hiding from? What is it you can't face, so you feel the need to crawl into a bottle?" Mac pushed on. "Is it your job? Your life? Is it me?"  
  
"Yeah, that's it Mac. It's you, I can't face you so I'll just crawl into a bottle and wait until you leave. It's all you. Just like every other man in your life." Harm spat out.  
  
"You bastard." Mac gasped. As her hand was swinging up to slap him, Harm reached out and caught her wrist in a tight grip.  
  
"Not this time Mac. You only get one shot, and you've already used yours up." Harm said. In a flash his other hand shot out and gripped Mac's left hand as she sought to connect with that one. "Didn't like my answer Colonel? Maybe you shouldn't have pushed so hard for an answer." Harm continued as he pulled her close.  
  
"Let me go Harm." Mac said in a deceptively quiet tone. He knew deep down that he was messing with fire. It was only a matter of time until Mac threw him on his six and stomped all over him for being an ass.  
  
"Oh come on Mac." Harm said with a bitter laugh. "You keep pushing to get close to me, and now here we are." He couldn't help but notice how good she smelled, even over the stale cigarette smoke and beer that permeated the dive bar. Savagely he tried to shove that thought back down where he'd been trying to keep it bottled up.  
  
"Harm, please?" Mac asked in a voice barely above a whisper. Looking into her eyes Harm noticed that they'd grown wider as he pulled her closer. He couldn't ignore the electricity he felt holding Mac's hands, her flesh touching his flesh.  
  
With a snarl he released her wrists and threw his hands up over his head. Slumping down in his chair again Harm sighed.  
  
"Harm? What is it?" Mac asked quietly as she carefully crouched down in front of him to bring her eyes to his level. She hoped he wouldn't notice the flush to her skin in the dingy lighting of the bar; he wasn't the only one who'd felt something as he touched her. She was also wary of his sudden mood swings.  
  
"You have no idea what I'm trying to hide from Mac."  
  
"I want to help you Harm, please tell me?" Mac practically begged.  
  
"I can't Mac. I can't do that to you; no one deserves that. Least of all you." Harm said quietly, closing his eyes as his mind was drawn back to his nightmares. "You should just leave me; get up and walk away Mac. Don't look back."  
  
"It's too late for that Harm. I'm here to stay; I let you out of my sight once, and I'm never doing it again. Look at what you've done to yourself when I left you alone?" Mac said in an attempt to lighten the mood.  
  
"You don't know what you're saying Mac." Harm pushed, trying to get her to see that it was safer to get away from him.  
  
"I do Harm, and we're done talking about this. You know I'm not going to go anywhere, and I know you need me."  
  
"Excuse me?" Harm gasped at the double meaning of her last statement.  
  
"You need my help Harm." Mac clarified. "I know what you're going through. I can help you get through it. I want to help you get through it. Please let me help Harm?"  
  
"You don't know what you're getting yourself into Mac." Harm tried one last time.  
  
"If you're there Harm, I need to be there. Trust me on this?" Mac's eyes pleaded with him to trust her once more.  
  
"Well apparently you're not going to take no for an answer." Harm finally conceded with a ghost of a smile.  
  
"Good." Mac said standing up straight and smiling at him. God, he'd missed that smile. "Let's get you home then."  
  
With a sigh Harm stood up and moved towards the door without looking back at her. As they stepped through the door he reached into his pocket to get his keys only to feel Mac's hand on his arm. Looking over his shoulder he raised an eyebrow in a silent question.  
  
"I'll drive. I know you're not drunk, but you're down to one vehicle Harm. Can't really afford to let you wreck your SUV now too."  
  
"Don't remind me." Harm muttered sadly. He'd been trying to forget the total write off his treasured Corvette was. As he turned towards Mac's car he stopped short when he saw a car parked down the street behind her.  
  
"What is it Harm?" Mac asked when she felt him stop behind her.  
  
"Nothing." Harm muttered as he stepped up to follow behind her.  
  
"Harm." Mac said quietly. "What is it?"  
  
"Really. It's nothing. Just that car there, it looks familiar." Harm said gesturing towards the car parked down the block.  
  
"A Jaguar? Who would bring a Jaguar to this part of town?" Mac asked in shock.  
  
"Good question." Harm said with sudden steel in his voice, he was sure it was the same car he'd seen outside his apartment for the past three nights. Quickly he stepped away from Mac, moving towards the Jaguar with the intent of seeing if he could find anything out about it. As he started moving the car suddenly sprang to life and the driver sped off. Vainly Harm tried to peer through the tinted windows to get a glimpse of the driver, but failed. Cursing he moved back towards Mac who was by now standing next to her car.  
  
Settling into the bucket seats of her 'vette Harm looked at Mac thoughtfully. Finally he came to a decision. "Nightmares." He said quietly.  
  
"What?" Mac said in a puzzled tone of voice.  
  
"You asked what I was hiding from. Nightmares. They don't come if I'm drunk." Harm added quietly.  
  
"Oh Harm." Mac whispered, the compassion thick in her voice. 


	24. Chapter 23

** A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 23_  
  
Harm wasn't too sure what to make of it when Mac followed him up to his apartment after driving him home from the Hole. Once, a long time ago, he wouldn't have thought anything of inviting her up to his apartment; it had happened all the time. That time in their lives seemed so long ago. Now he couldn't remember the last time he felt comfortable enough with her just following him in. A couple of hours ago he'd been trying to hide from her. Now a part of him was actually glad she was there. Stopping at the door to his building, he turned and looked at her intently.  
  
Mac stopped suddenly when confronted with Harm's intense gaze. She saw so many emotions in his eyes, but couldn't name one. "What?" she asked.  
  
"Mac, you don't have to do this." Harm said quietly, knowing he needed to give it one more shot. Once she followed him, Harm wasn't sure if he could protect her from what she might find.  
  
Mac bit her tongue to stop the instant retort she felt coming out. This man certainly knew how to push her buttons, good and bad. "Harm, I told you that I wanted to help. I need to be here, be with you, to do that. I can't help you from Georgetown, not yet. I have to do this Harm, I can't let you fall down the way I did."  
  
With a sigh Harm slowly nodded. Mac was still every bit as tenacious as she'd always been. There was no way he could just get rid of her. It was just like that time he'd ditched her outside his apartment when he went to confront Diane's killer. Not even his abandoning her in the rain could stop her from coming to him. If Harm was to be completely honest with himself, she was probably the only reason he hadn't shot Hobarth outright. God, he hadn't thought about that night in a long time.  
  
"Harm?" Mac asked when he stopped holding the door half open. "What is it?"  
  
"Huh? Oh, nothing." Harm said shaking his head as if to clear it.  
  
"Harm?"  
  
"Just thinking about Hobarth." Harm said quietly. "The first of many."  
  
"Hobarth?" Mac said quietly. "The XO of the Seahawk who killed Diane?"  
  
"Yeah." Harm said as he yanked the door all the way open and walked through it. Mac didn't pursue the matter as she followed him up the stairs to his apartment.  
  
After Harm had unlocked and entered the apartment Mac moved towards the couch while he went into the bathroom.  
  
"Why were you thinking about Hobarth? And what did you mean when you said 'The first of many'?" Mac asked over the sound of Harm running the water in the bathroom sink.  
  
It was a moment before Harm walked back down from his bedroom. His face wet with splashed water. "Honestly, I was thinking about how you wouldn't let me abandon you that night." Harm said with a short bark of bitter laughter. "I didn't pull the trigger, but I killed him all the same. The first of many I played judge and jury for. Oh and executioner, we can't forget about that part." He snapped.  
  
"What are you talking about Harm? You didn't kill Hobarth, he fell between the ship and the dock. If anything seeing me caused the accident, but it was just that. An accident."  
  
"Mac, if I hadn't gone there that night, if I hadn't tricked him into leaving the ship, if I hadn't wanted to kill him he wouldn't be dead." Harm said with an edge to his voice.  
  
"Harm, if you hadn't gone after him he would have gotten away with murdering Diane." Mac said softly.  
  
With a snort Harm started to pace the apartment restlessly. Mac sighed, stood up, and moved to the kitchen. When Harm saw her grab the bottle of scotch off the counter, where it had sat for three days, he stopped his pacing. "Mac? What the fuck are you doing?"  
  
"This." Mac said as she upended the bottle over the sink. Her eyes locked onto Harm's daring him to try and stop her. "You don't need this anymore Harm."  
  
Frowning, Harm's eyes grew wide with rage as he watched Mac move onto the fridge where she started to pull out all the bottles of beer he'd put in there. "Put those right the hell back where you found them!!?"  
  
"I told you Harm, you don't need this stuff anymore. It doesn't help, and actually it only hurts you. You can't hide from your demons Harm, you know that."  
  
"Well I can't beat these demons either." Harm said through clenched teeth.  
  
"Why not?" Mac asked with compassion.  
  
"Because I am my demon!" He shouted after a few moments.  
  
Mac stood with a beer bottle in hand, poised to dump it out as she looked closely at Harm. Fear rising within her at the horror in his eyes. "What do you mean?"  
  
"The nightmares Mac. They aren't about things happening to me. They're about things I've done, people I've killed." Harm whirled around to stare her down. "So, tell me doctor, how am I supposed to deal with that!"  
  
With a sigh Mac dumped the last beer bottle out and set it on the counter. Turning on the faucet she washed the alcohol down the drain and ran her hands under the stream for good measure. She had to remain calm if she was going to help Harm. Wiping her hands on the dish towel she moved back towards the couch, touching Harm on the shoulder as she moved past him. "Harm, please sit down? We need to talk about this."  
  
She couldn't help but smile at the way Harm's face was all screwed up tightly when he finally sat down beside her on the couch. He obviously was having second thoughts about this whole talking thing, and that was classic Harm. The Harm that she had fallen in love with so many years before; the one who didn't want to talk about anything serious. And as much as she was annoyed by that at times, it was still part of the man she loved.  
  
"Tell me about the nightmares?" she prompted.  
  
"I'd rather not." Harm said harshly.  
  
"They're the reason you drink so much?" Mac asked.  
  
"No. I drink for the nice warming sensation in my stomach." Harm answered sarcastically. "Of course I drink to keep the nightmares away."  
  
"Is that why you haven't been sleeping much?" Mac asked softly. She'd noticed how tired he looked in Iraq, at AJ's birthday party and any other number of times she'd seen him in the last couple months.  
  
"Whatever gave you that idea?" he retorted with a brittle edge to his voice.  
  
With a deep sigh Mac struggled to retain control of her emotions. She couldn't give in to the urge to snap back at Harm or she would lose whatever chance she had of helping him. "Harm, I can just look at you and tell you that you haven't been eating or sleeping. Why did the doctors clear you back to work?"  
  
"You'd have to ask them. Apparently I'm fit enough to murder people."  
  
"What?" Mac gasped.  
  
"You were there Mac. You know what I do for the Company; I kill people. And I'm good at it, that's why they keep sending me out to do it." Harm said with a hard little laugh. "I guess there's something to be said for applying yourself to your work."  
  
"Why do you keep doing it Harm? Obviously if its giving you nightmares..." Mac trailed off at a loss for what else to say. She wanted to help him so badly, but she didn't know how to.  
  
"What else am I going to do? There's not a huge market out there for ex- spooks."  
  
"You know what I mean Harm. I thought you joined the CIA to fly?"  
  
"Seems they needed my other talents more." Harm said jumping to his feet once more to begin pacing.  
  
Sighing, Mac watched Harm pace for a few minutes, not saying anything. There really wasn't anything she could say. Finally she stood up and put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to a stop. "Harm, it's late, and you need to sleep. Please?"  
  
"I'm not going to sleep Mac, don't fool yourself." Harm shook off Mac's gentle grip on his shoulder.  
  
"Damn it Rabb, you need sleep. Get your ass into that bed, right now. I'll even stay here, on the couch if it makes you feel better to have someone around."  
  
"You don't need to do that. Just because I can't sleep doesn't mean you should lose sleep as well."  
  
"If you're hurting it does." Mac said softly, gently nudging Harm in the direction of his bedroom. "Come on Harm, I'll tuck you in."  
  
With a snort of laughter Harm just shrugged his shoulders. Couldn't hurt, and it was late anyway. He needed to get his sleep pattern under control before Monday. As he walked up to his bedroom he felt Mac's eyes on him the whole time. "Here." He said as he pulled out an old t-shirt and shorts and tossed them down to her.  
  
"Thanks." Mac answered with a far off look in her eye. He still had the clothes she'd left here to sleep in so long ago.  
  
After she'd changed and was sure Harm was ready for bed, Mac shut off the lights and stepped into his bedroom. "Can I tuck you in?" she asked hesitantly. When he didn't answer she decided to take that as an affirmative and sat down on the bed beside him. Gently she brushed his hair out of his eyes. He needed a haircut she thought to herself. Softly she began to run her hand through his hair, caressing the back of his head.  
  
"I'm sure you mean well Mac, but it's not going to help." Harm muttered against his pillow.  
  
"Well, you need to know that I'm here now, I'll be here all night if I need to be Harm. I already told you I'm not letting you go this time." Mac said as she continued to stroke his hair.  
  
"Why?" Harm asked in a surprisingly pleading tone of voice.  
  
"Because I don't want to let you go again. I can't let you go again Harm. My life was so empty without you, and now you're back." Mac whispered as she felt the tension relax a little under her fingers. "Because I care Harm."  
  
Mac barely heard the little grunt Harm gave in response. She would never be able to tell you how long she sat there, stroking his hair, willing him to sleep. But eventually she felt his breath deepen and knew he was asleep, for now at least. With a little smile she laid down beside him on top of the sheets, keeping her hand moving gently along his hair.  
  
"Because I love you Harm." She whispered before she surrendered herself to sleep. 


	25. Chapter 24

** A Man Call Ghost**  
_  
Chapter 24_  
  
Harm paced restlessly in the outer office of none other than Director Kershaw. Apparently there was something the high and mighty needed to discuss with Harm on his first day back in the office. Wearily Harm ran a hand over his face before sitting down in one of the leather chairs once more. This was the first time he'd been able to get out of Mac's sight since Friday night when she'd found him down at the Hole. She'd all but moved in, going back to her apartment long enough on Saturday to pack a few days worth of clothes and grab a few uniforms. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, part of him was glad she was there.  
  
It hadn't done much for the nightmares though. That first night on Friday was the worst. He wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep before he was once more throwing himself out of bed. Only this time Mac was there to be startled out of her own sleep and witness his insane behavior. He couldn't shake this new nightmare, and there was something about it that was worrying him. The more he remembered when he woke up, the more it worried him.  
  
He could remember that at some point the nightmare switched from him being chased through the jungle by the cat, to him driving in his car. The next thing he recalled was being tossed from the car as it rolled over. On some level he simply assumed his subconscious was dredging up memories of the accident because from what he understood, he'd been thrown from the car as it flipped over and rolled.  
  
His mind wandered from the memories of the nightmares to the memory of Mac's arms wrapped around him as he struggled through them. He hated that she saw him like that; hated that she saw him at his weakest, unable to even deal with what he did for a living.  
  
"Mr. Rabb?" Kershaw's secretary interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"Yeah?" he answered absently.  
  
"The Director and DDI will see you now."  
  
Oh great, Spider was going to be there. Fucking lovely. "Thanks." He muttered as he moved towards the door leading to the inner office.  
  
"Agent Rabb, glad to have you back with us." Kershaw said pleasantly when Harm had wandered into the office. "How are you feeling my boy?"  
  
Shrugging absently Harm plopped down into one of the chairs in front of the Director's desk without even looking at where Webb was standing behind the Director. "Well enough I guess."  
  
"Well, you've been through quite a lot Harm, what with Iraq and those hostages and then your car accident." Kershaw said glancing down at Harm's file on his desk.  
  
"Nothing I can't handle." Harm answered tersely.  
  
"Do you feel up to going out again in a couple of days?" Webb asked from where he was lurking behind Kershaw.  
  
"If you need me Spider, I'll be there." Harm said with a shrug.  
  
As Webb opened his mouth to protest Kershaw held up his hand silencing him. Webb settled for shooting Harm a murderous glare and then moved around the desk to sit down in the chair beside Harm's.  
  
"We do need you Harm." Kershaw said briskly. "Something's come up that I'm assured you are uniquely suited to handle. Your file indicates you trained with SEAL team 2."  
  
"About ten months ago, yeah."  
  
"How much of their training did you partake in?"  
  
"Hostage rescue, assault, recon, insertion." Harm answered briefly.  
  
"By insertion, can I assume you've been trained in the various wet insertions the SEALs utilize?" Kershaw asked without looking up from Harm's file.  
  
"Look, Director. It would be a lot easier if you told me what you want to know. Can I do 30/30s? Yes."  
  
"How about HALO?"  
  
"Did my first one ten years ago." Harm said with a hint of a smile and a touch of pride. It wasn't everyone who could jump out of an aircraft and perform a High Altitude, Low Opening jump. The Few. The Proud. The Insane.  
  
"Ten years ago?" Kershaw asked in shock, looking up from the file.  
  
"You won't find it in there. I did it as part of a JAG investigation."  
  
"Some investigation." The Director said with a smile. "Excellent. You are indeed the best suited for this. Clayton?"  
  
"Rabb, here's what you need to know. You'll be on a transport to the Patrick Henry tomorrow morning. They're currently in the Gulf of Sidra. Once there you will stay out of sight, and I mean that Rabb. You're too damn well known for your own good on that ship. While you're on the ship you'll be some faceless Lieutenant with the SEALs. We'll have them separated from the rest of the crew, so stay with them."  
  
"Easy enough. Now what's this all about?"  
  
"Reports indicate that Ben Hassa is aboard a ship just off the coast of Saudi Arabia."  
  
"Ben Hassa? The arms dealer?" Harm asked.  
  
"That's right. From what we can tell he is the primary dealer to the Iraqi insurgents. In fact he's pretty much funding and supplying two of the most violent groups. If we can grab him, we cut off the flow of money and weapons to these groups, eliminating a huge threat to our troops in Iraq. That's where you come in. We want you and SEAL Team 6 to make a wet jump and approach the ship. Once on board you will sweep it for Hassa, and after you've located him you will remove him from the ship, quietly. Use whatever force you deem necessary to achieve your objective. Questions?" Webb asked as he handed Harm a file folder with the details of the mission.  
  
"Why not just eliminate him?" Harm asked as he opened the file to look at a picture of his target.  
  
"We feel that Hassa will most likely have a great deal of information that will helpful in our war on terrorism. We need him alive, Rabb."  
  
"Extraction plans?"  
  
"Hassa has his own personal helicopter and landing pad on the ship. I'm sure he won't mind you borrowing it." Webb said with a smirk. Apparently he'd thought of everything.  
  
"What sort of helicopter?" Harm asked absently as he finished flipping through the file.  
  
"What does it matter?" Webb's smirk was starting to slip.  
  
"Well, if it's a Sea King, we don't have a problem. If it's a Jet Ranger, we might have a problem." Harm pointed out as he closed the file in his hand.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Webb asked testily.  
  
"You expect me to extract eight men on this helicopter. The devil's in the details Spider. You want me to get out with the arms dealer and my team; I need to know the helicopter is big enough for all of us." Harm said tossing the file onto Kershaw's desk. "What's the back up plan if the helicopter fails?"  
  
"You get back in the water and wait for a SAR chopper from the carrier group."  
  
"How long will that take Webb? If we've got wounded they're not going to be up for a swim in the Gulf of Sidra while we wait."  
  
"You're worrying too much about it Rabb."  
  
"No, I'm not Webb." Harm said angrily. "Listen, this is your op. Things always go to shit on your ops. Ergo, I will have wounded and or dead SEALs to extract, if I'm not wounded or dead myself. I want to cover all the bases. Who's running this op on the ground? You or me?" Harm stood up and looked down at Webb with a steely glare.  
  
"You are, but I have final control."  
  
"Fine. Find out how long for an inbound chopper from the Pat. And while you're at it, get me all the info on the ship we're boarding you can. And I mean more than those security specs you've got in the file. I want builder's specs, engine specs, hell I want to know what kind of radio and radar he has in the thing and when it was last in port for an annual inspection. If I need to, I'll drive the damn thing out of there."  
  
"I'll get it." Webb said briskly, standing up and nodding at the Director. "Director, I think we're done here."  
  
"Thank you gentlemen, and good luck." The Director said as he turned back to more paperwork on his desk, dismissing them.  
  
Following Webb out to the hallway outside the Director's office, Harm shook his head slowly muttering to himself.  
  
"What's your problem?" Webb rolled his eyes in Harm's direction.  
  
"You really haven't planned this all that well, have you Spider?"  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"You don't have any idea how long it will take to get the back up plan in place. Fuck, you don't even know what kind of chopper Hassa has on board. I thought for sure you would at least know that seeing as you want me to steal it."  
  
"You'll pull it off Rabb, you always do." Webb snapped back without bothering to hide the bitterness in his voice.  
  
"Yeah, I probably will. But it won't be because of you Mr. Deputy Director."  
  
"Whatever. I'll have the information you want waiting for you when you get to Andrews. Your flight leaves tomorrow morning at 0400, as you military types say. Now, go downstairs and get yourself fit out as a SEAL, Lieutenant." Webb said as they entered the lobby and passed through the security checkpoint.  
  
"Do I have a cover already, or do I get to play it by ear?"  
  
"Oh I'm sure you'll come up with something." Webb said waving his hand dismissively. "If not, check with the boys downstairs. They might have something put together for you."  
  
"Great, thanks." Harm said shaking his head. Webb ignored him and wandered towards the glass doors when Harm thought of something. "Spider?"  
  
"What?" Webb snapped, turning around to look at Harm.  
  
"Mac says hi. She also says you can go burn in hell." Harm smirked. He was amused at how quickly Webb shot a glare back at him. Yeah, it was petty to play this game with him, but it was somewhat enjoyable. Webb didn't bother replying but spun abruptly on his heel and shoved the glass doors open, almost knocking over some poor young kid coming in.  
  
Harm stood there idly watching Webb walk out towards a late model silver Jaguar. Focusing on Webb open and enter the car, Harm's eyes narrowed, his lips pressing together tightly. So, it was Webb who was following him. The question now was why.  
  
Lost in thought over this new revelation, Harm turned and passed back through the checkpoint. His next stop, Operations where he would draw a Naval uniform and find out who he would be for the foreseeable future.  
  
_**A/N **Now hold on kiddies. Put down the rotten fruit please. I know that I was just getting to the shippery goodness, and now all of a sudden Harm's back at work, we missed a weekend of Harm and Mac dealing with his nightmares and drinking, and on top of that Harm's shipping out on some deep dark secret mission. Trust me, not a lot happened over that weekend; I was there, I saw it all. But I do have good news, Harm and I were talking about this mission of his and when he told me about how it ended I couldn't believe how much time he and Mac had to spend together after all was said and done. I'm sure you'll all enjoy it too._


	26. Chapter 25

** A Man Called Ghost**  
  
_Chapter 25_  
  
After the COD had come to a complete stop Harm uncrossed his arms and released his arrest harness. Standing up he noticed his hand was starting to shake again. With a savage curse that caused the two other passengers to look in his direction, Harm quickly grabbed onto the seatback in front of him until he felt the tremors pass. For three days he'd managed to keep his occasional shakes from Mac. He'd even managed to hide them from the doctors at the Company. Harm was just glad he didn't have an episode while getting ready for this operation.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander? You need to get aboard now, sir. There's an Ensign waiting for you." The crew chief said as he came to stand next to Harm. Harm was glad he'd managed to convince the ops guys that anyone his age who was still a Lieutenant would at best be chained to a desk, not running around in the field.  
  
"Thanks Chief." Harm said without bothering to mask the tension in his voice.  
  
"First time in a COD, sir? It can be quite a shock to the system the first time you sit through an arrested landing." The Chief said with barely masked contempt in his eyes. How could this guy be a SEAL and get shook up to the point of trembling when landing in a COD?  
  
"That will be all, Chief!" Harm snapped back when he caught the Chief's patronizing tone and the look in his eyes.  
  
"Aye, aye." The Chief said sharply. "Sir." He added belatedly.  
  
Biting his lip Harm grabbed his seabag and moved to the hatch. Dropping to the deck he saw a young female Ensign who reminded him a little of a younger Harriet Sims-Roberts. As soon as his feet hit the deck the Ensign was snapping off a sharp salute.  
  
"Lieutenant Commander Post, I'm Ensign Gallows, the PAO aboard. Welcome to the Patrick Henry, sir. If you'll follow me the rest of your team is below in Squad Bay three."  
  
"Thank you, Ensign." Harm said returning the salute. With a wry snort he shook his head as he finally admitted to himself how much he missed this.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Nothing Ensign. Lead the way."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir."  
  
When Harm and the Ensign had finally ducked inside the superstructure, Harm finally removed his helmet and vest. While on the deck he'd left it on just in case someone he knew was watching the arrivals. He needed to get below as soon as possible.  
  
"Right this way, sir." Ensign Gallows gestured for Harm to follow her as she moved towards a nearby ladder well.  
  
Silently Harm followed the Ensign without bothering to respond to her infrequent entreaties to draw him into conversation. As they were approaching the 03 deck Harm caught sight of a familiar figure coming down the corridor towards him, and from the way the man's eyes widened Harm was pretty sure that he'd been seen as well. Shit. Just what he needed to start this off.  
  
"Harm?" Sturgis said in shock.  
  
Harm stopped and came to attention immediately looking at a point beyond Sturgis' shoulder. "I'm sorry Commander, you must have me confused with someone else. I'm Lieutenant Commander Gregory Post."  
  
Trying not to laugh at the confusion he saw pass over his old friend's face Harm continued to stare into space. "Ah, my mistake Commander. As you were."  
  
With a slight shake of his head, as he relaxed from standing at attention, Harm tried to answer all of the questions in Turner's eyes. Once Sturgis continued on his way Harm let out a little sigh. At least Turner was smart enough not to ask awkward questions in front of Gallows or anyone else. He just hoped Sturgis was smart enough not to go to Toby and ask him what the hell Harm was doing on his ship masquerading as a Naval Officer. He could only hope.  
  
As he rounded the corner in the passageway leading to the Squad Bay, Harm caught sight of Skates coming down a ladder at the end of the way. Damn it, he needed to get into that Squad Bay before someone else saw him.  
  
"This is it, sir." Ensign Gallows started to say as Harm hurried into the Squad Bay and slammed the hatch behind him. Gallows shook her head disgustedly at the Lieutenant Commander's behavior. Damn SEALs thought they were better than everyone else.  
  
With a sigh Harm pushed off from the hatch he had just closed to look up into the dim squad bay. He saw four men standing around a table at the end of the bay. That would be his new SEAL team, or at least most of them.  
  
Moving towards the table a figure in BDUs stepped out of the shadows and stopped in front of Harm with arms crossed over his chest. "Who the hell do you think you are? Sir."  
  
Dropping his seabag Harm took a second to look the man in front of him up and down. Five ten, probably two twenty. Built like a tree trunk. A Chief Petty Officer by the rank on his collar. With a quick punch to the solar plexus Harm had the Chief Petty Officer bent over double and quickly moved a leg to drop the man on the deck. Only one way to let this dog know who was boss.  
  
"The name's Post. Lieutenant Commander Post. And I'm your worst nightmare Chief. Now pick up my bag and stow in on my rack." Harm said in a deathly quiet voice.  
  
As he stepped around the man writhing on the ground Harm looked up to see the team's leader standing in his path. Stepping up to the Commander, Harm came to attention and shot off a salute. "Lieutenant Commander Post reporting, sir."  
  
"Welcome aboard Commander. I'm Commander Munson. Stand at ease."  
  
"Good to be here, sir. Heard you boys needed a pilot for this op."  
  
"Figured they'd hook us up with some carrier jockey. Imagine my surprise to find out there's a fully qualified pilot serving with Two. How'd you like working with Rivers?" According to his cover, not even the Team knew Harm was CIA. Instead they'd been told he was a pilot who'd transferred into the SEALs and was serving with SEAL Team 2, who had been temporarily attached to their Team.  
  
"He's a tough bastard, sir. A cowboy, but he gets the job done and brings us home."  
  
Nodding at Harm's statement Munson let a brief smile play over his lips. Looking past Harm to where the Chief was picking himself up off the deck, the Commander snapped, "Damn it Perez, get your ass off the deck. Stow the Commander's bag on his rack and then go get him some grub." Turning to Harm the Commander nodded. "You've met Perez I see. Don't mind him, he thinks he's tough. Come on, I'll introduce you to the rest of the team."  
  
After the introductions were made Harm and Munson moved over to the table to look over the plans for the op. According to the files Webb had left for Harm at Andrews, Hassa did actually have a Sea King chopper on his ship, which would be large enough for Harm to fly everyone out. Twenty minutes later when the hatch opened behind him Harm glanced over his shoulder figuring it would be Perez with his food. Instead he saw Sturgis step into the bay. Damn it, damn it, damn it! Why couldn't he leave well enough alone?  
  
Both Harm and Munson came to attention when Turner came over to the table.  
  
"As you were men. Commander Post, it's been a long time." Sturgis said with an edge to his voice.  
  
"It has sir. How've you been?" Harm asked softly.  
  
"Good, good. Can I have a word with you? In private?"  
  
With a barely perceptible sigh, Harm nodded slightly and indicated the distant corner. Once both Harm and Sturgis had moved to the corner Harm shot a deadly glance at his long time friend. "Damn it Sturgis, what are you doing?"  
  
"I think that's my line _Commander Post_. Last I heard you'd quit the Navy."  
  
"Actually if you check with BuPers Lieutenant Commander Post is very active in his duties. Ex-carrier pilot, who decided to try his hand at being a SEAL. Comes in handy for certain ops." Harm said sarcastically. "Leave it alone Turner."  
  
"Damn it Harm; we haven't seen you in months and this is how you turn up?"  
  
"Look Sturgis, I can't tell you anything, alright? You're not cleared to know. Hell the Team doesn't even know what's going on. As far as they know I am Post, and Post is a pilot serving with SEAL 2. Leave it alone." Harm warned.  
  
With a snort Sturgis shook his head. "I see you're enjoying your time on the Dark Side."  
  
"Didn't have anything else left to me buddy. And it turns out I'm pretty good at the work."  
  
"Harm..." Sturgis started.  
  
Harm had had enough. "Shut it Sturgis. I'm not here, you didn't see me, and yeah, this conversation never took place. End of fucking discussion." Harm snapped quietly as he came to attention and saluted Sturgis. Turning on his heal Harm stalked back towards where Munson and the rest of the team were standing, trying not to look at Sturgis. He didn't see the look of frustration and anger that was naked on Sturgis' face as he himself strode to the hatch and moved through it, slamming it behind him.  
  
"Everything okay, Post?" Munson asked when Harm had rejoined them at the table.  
  
"Yeah. Met the guy when he did an inquiry on an op awhile ago. He ended up owing me $50 after a night of poker and never did pay it."  
  
"Fucking JAGs, always poking their noses into our shit when we get back." One of the other SEALs muttered.  
  
"Stow it Butts." Munson snapped at the man.  
  
"Aye, sir." The PO answered sullenly.  
  
"Alright guys, here's the plan for tomorrow..." Munson started up again. For the next two hours they went over everything from insertion to extraction. Harm spoke up in regards to the helicopter and its role in getting them all out of there. With a final look at the men around him Munson nodded his head in satisfaction. "That covers it. I'll pick up the letters in a couple of hours and then I want you guys to rack out. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow. We ship out at 0400. Dismissed."  
  
After a quick chorus of "Aye, sir." Harm shoved his seabag aside then moved towards his rack and sank down onto it. The letters, he'd forgotten about those. Who the hell was he going to write, anyway? He hadn't spoke to his mom in almost a year, and even though he'd had a few conversations with Frank after he left JAG, it had been almost as long since he'd spoken to his stepfather. He didn't have a wife or anyone else that the SEALs normally wrote their letters to. Maybe he should write one to Bud and Harriet for little AJ and Jimmy.  
  
While Harm was lost in his thoughts Munson had walked up and put his foot up on the end of Harm's rack. When Harm noticed he was standing there Munson held out his hand to keep him from standing up. "Don't worry about it."  
  
"What can I do for you, sir?" Harm asked.  
  
"Drop the sir crap Post, we don't stand much on formality here. Call me Bob."  
  
"Greg." Harm said after the barest moment's hesitation.  
  
"That's not exactly true now, is it Greg." Bob said as he leaned closer to Harm.  
  
"What are you getting at?" Harm asked warily as the words Bob was saying hit him.  
  
"Don't get me wrong, I know you belong here the same as any of us, my guess is that you earned that Trident. And I know if you're here we need you for the op tomorrow. But you aren't serving with Two, are you Commander?"  
  
"What the hell do you mean, Bob?"  
  
"Cut the crap Greg. I was on the Seahawk three years ago in the Gulf when a certain crazy fighter jock decided he wanted to play tag with a dirty cruise missile. Funny thing is the jet jock wasn't carrier bound; if you can believe it he was a JAG. I owe that man my life; me and everyone else within ten miles of the Seahawk."  
  
"Three years is a long time Bob."  
  
"You're a long way from JAG Greg." Harm noticed that even though Munson was hinting that he knew who Harm was he was sticking to using his assumed name. Good man.  
  
"Been a long way from JAG for a year now. Seems my services weren't required any longer, and another offer came up." Harm said with the barest hint of bitterness.  
  
"Look, Greg. I'm not going to pretend I know everything that's going on here, and as much as it pisses me off to do it, I'm not going to ask any questions. I'm guessing it has something to do with that guy that was down here earlier though."  
  
"What guy?"  
  
"Can't miss him. He's the only one on the ship wearing a three piece suit."  
  
"Shit. I can't get away from him, can I?" Harm said quietly to himself.  
  
"You know him?" Munson asked without sounding shocked.  
  
"Wish I didn't. If he's here I'm surprised he hasn't been down to torment me yet, he seems to enjoy making my life a living hell."  
  
"Well, we'll see what we can do to keep that from happening; we look after our own. I'll set a couple of the boys to watching our friend in the suit." Munson said with a slight nod. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to your letter."  
  
"Don't have anyone to write to." Harm said with a shrug.  
  
"What do you mean? Everyone has someone they write to; even if it's an old high school or Academy buddy. Listen, Greg, take my word for it. You don't want to go out there and not come back leaving things unsaid. Even if its bullshit about how you miss all the shit you used to get up to in the Academy, put it down. You'll be able to feel better about it when your time comes that way." And with that Munson was wandering back across the squad bay to where the enlisted men were writing their own letters.  
  
With a sigh Harm stared at the unrelenting grey bulkhead, trying to make sense of the jumble of thoughts and emotions running through his head. He should probably write his mom and Frank, but then again how do you say "Hi mom and dad. Sorry I haven't written or phoned in awhile, but I've become something of a cold blooded murderer in the name of my country. Been spending a lot of time in far off places killing people they tell me are a threat to the US. Love, Harm." Somehow he didn't think that would make the parents feel any better; never mind the fact that the Company would probably get its hand on his letter before his parents and they wouldn't let that slide. With a sigh, Harm shrugged his shoulders and looked up. "Butts!" he called out.  
  
"Sir?"  
  
"Bring me some of that damn paper and a pen."  
  
"Aye sir."  
  
Twenty minutes later Harm rubbed his eyes and leaned back against the bulkhead considering the letter he'd written his parents. He'd included some stuff for his mom to pass on to Sergei, but didn't really think a separate letter to his brother was called for. They'd drifted a bit even before Harm joined the CIA, so he wouldn't even know where to send it now. With a last glance to make sure there was enough to reassure his mother that he'd died in the service of his country, but not enough to worry her, he folded the papers in half and set them aside to be placed in an envelope.  
  
The very fact that he'd been writing this letter surrounded by SEALs about to go on a covert op brought AJ to mind. Before he knew it, Harm was in the middle of writing a letter to his former CO, asking questions and providing answers that he felt his CO deserved. He tried to explain his behavior in recent years, feeling that AJ deserved some sort of explanation. He railed against AJ's decision to order everyone to stay away from him during his murder investigation, getting a little harsher than he'd planned. But most of all he asked questions about what he was feeling, about his sense of being lost. If anyone knew the answers it would be AJ, and even if he wasn't going to be around to hear the answers it felt better to have them out. Of course he'd never ask the questions in person, and the only way AJ was going to read this letter is if he was dead, but it did feel better in a way. He didn't bother going into that "I died with his boots on" crap with the old SEAL, AJ knew if Harm didn't come back, it was because something had gone wrong; be it luck or planning. With a bit of a flourish he signed his name and folded the paper without a second glance.  
  
And now came the hard part. Deep down inside he wasn't sure if he wanted to write this final letter, but he also knew he had to. Bob was right, he didn't want to die with things left unsaid on his part. Sighing heavily, he set pen to paper once more and decided he wouldn't hold anything back.  
  
_Mac_  
  
No, that would never do...  
  
_ Sarah,  
  
Well I hate to say it, mostly because it sounds so melodramatic, but if you are reading this then I am most likely dead or captured. Sounds like something out of a bad late night movie, doesn't it? But, then again they say art imitates life, so there it is. You and I both know I can't really tell you what I'm doing, let me just reassure you that it is in the name of fighting that good fight we're always talking about. Sorry I couldn't go out in that blaze of glory with you, but I promise if I'm gone I'll do my best to make it a blaze to remember.  
_  
That should at least get a bit of a chuckle out of her Harm thought to himself as he bit onto the end of the pen in thought.  
  
_ I'm not really sure what else to say beyond the requisite "If you're reading this, I am dead" crap. Where do I start Sarah? With the questions without answers? With the answers I think you are looking for? With my feelings for you? Yes, I still have, will always have, feelings for you Sarah. Feelings that run deeper than I ever knew feelings could. I think that's why things hurt so bad last year when none of you came to see me while I was in the brig. Bud and Harriet I can understand; they've got the boys to look after. Sturgis? Well I can't say I agree, but he's always been so by the book it must be stuck up his ass somewhere. But you Mac? You know that if the situations had been reversed, if any of you were in my place I'd be breaking down the door, breaking rules, regs and orders to see you and help. I guess I just thought even if the Admiral ordered you guys away, you of all people would do whatever it took to be there for me. I still can't say I understand, but it's in the past. I shall do my best to ignore the scar caused by that wound so that it may join the legion of other scars upon my soul._  
  
Harm paused in his writing to read over what he'd written. Well he'd decided he wasn't going to hold anything back, and that meant the good and the bad.  
  
_ Sure, I guess you were probably angry with me because of me looking into Singer's pregnancy on my own time, but you need to understand. I thought Sergei was the father, and that's why I decided to take the blame. I thought I was protecting my unborn niece or nephew. I would do anything to protect family or friend. You know that Mac. If you're mad at me about that, or were mad at me about that, so be it. I guess you don't know me as well as I thought you did. When you finally did come by, you asked if I was okay, and then left before I could give you an answer. Typical, MacKenzie, very typical. (by the way, I've decided to let everything out here, so deal with it or stop reading, its your choice)_  
  
_ Now, let's talk about Paraguay, shall we? What the hell got into you? What the fuck were you thinking? I ask to table the discussion until we're somewhere safer, some place where people aren't going to be shooting at us, and because of this you decide that I'm trying to run the show and that it's not going to work out? You decide that "never" is the operative word? Well guess what Sarah? I wasn't trying to run the show, never was.  
  
In case you didn't notice I didn't push you on that because I'd learned long ago when it came to relationships you don't like to be pushed. So I decided to respect you, respect your decision, no matter how much it hurt inside to do that. Do you have any idea how much that hurt? To decide that I was ready to tell you I loved you, only to find you in Webb's arms, kissing Webb, mooning over Webb, telling me we're never going to work.  
  
And then you have the audacity to assume that I only ever had the Navy. I guess, as it turns out, you were right. I thought I had something with the woman I love, but apparently that was just a dream, gone in a wisp of smoke before the coming of the morning's light. Apparently the Navy was all I ever had, how foolish of me to not know that.  
_  
Harm had to stop writing as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him. Chances are Mac wouldn't even be reading the letter anymore if she got it. She'd be so mad he wouldn't put it past her to throw it out. But he wanted to get everything out.  
  
_And that hurt Sarah. Because I'd finally realized that what I'd felt all those years, what I'd been afraid of for all those years was my love for you. Funny, isn't it? But this last week has helped me see something. I think you still care for me Sarah, and for that I am grateful, more grateful than I could ever say. I am sorry that I cut myself off from you and everyone else, I'm sorry that you were all hurt by that. But I swear, I didn't do it to hurt you. Some of the things I've done Sarah, some of the things I've seen, I can't tell you about them, I can't burden you with them. And I am afraid that if you knew about them you would look upon me as some sort of monster. I know that I've become a monster; I know that you would be right to look at me that way. I try not to think of all the people I've killed this year, but they won't leave me alone. They come to me in the night, when the mind sleeps. They haunt me Sarah; they are getting their revenge upon me.  
  
If I die out here on this mission in the middle of nowhere I ask only that you know that I did love you Sarah MacKenzie; that I've always loved you. That in my twisted way I cut myself off from you not because of my own pain, but rather to protect you. Though, I will admit that my pain played a role in my decision. Please do not think of me as I have become, think of me as I was when my love for you first grew, a blossom in the garden of roses.  
  
Always and Only Yours,  
H.R Jr.  
  
P.S: Don't trust Webb.  
_  
And with that Harm laid down his pen and gently folded the pages in half. 


	27. Chapter 26

** A Man Called Ghost**  
_  
Chapter 26_  
  
"Alright, listen up." Commander Bob Munson waited for the SEAL team to quiet down. "There's been a change in our insertion. The target is moving and we don't have time for a HALO. We're catching the helo out in thirty minutes and we're going in with Zodiacs via 30/30. Don't worry about the chutes or oxygen sets. Wet suits, weapons and packs. Suit up people."  
  
"Aye, aye, sir." Six voices answered his orders.  
  
Harm stepped over to his locker and pulled it open, going through a check list of what could happen on this mission. Absently he pulled out the wetsuit he'd wear on the insertion and began to strip down to change.  
  
"Geeze sir, look at that. There's no way you would have survived a jump with that thing." Perez said as he passed by Harm's locker.  
  
Looking up Harm focused on the packed chute that was hanging in the spacious locker. A corner of the chute had been pulled out and a huge rip could be seen in the dark material. "What the hell?" Harm asked out loud. "I packed that this morning myself and it was fine."  
  
"Don't look fine now sir." Perez said shaking his head as he wandered off to his own locker.  
  
"What's up Greg?" Munson asked coming over to Harm's locker.  
  
"Someone tampered with my chute. Damn good thing we're not jumping now."  
  
"Damn good thing." Munson echoed as he stepped to the growler phone attached the bulkhead of the squad room. "Bridge, this is Squad Bay three. I need one of the Master at Arms' boys down here ASAP."  
  
Munson paused to listen to the response. "Damn it Lieutenant, I have compromised equipment down here I want placed under guard. You get me a member of the security detail down here right now or I'll bring it up with the Captain!" With that Munson slammed the phone down and turned back to Harm. "Security is on its way. We'll get that locked up and then when we get back you and I are going to do a little question asking. I don't like the idea of one of my men being compromised."  
  
"I don't like being compromised as you put it boss." Harm said with a shake of his head. Something was up, and he didn't have time to think about it now, but he would get to the bottom of this when he got back. Someone had tampered with his chute, and to him that looked like an attempted "accident".  
  
Twenty minutes later Harm and Commander Munson stepped out onto the flight deck all geared up and ready to go. As they clambered aboard the helo taking them out to the ship, Perez tapped Munson on the shoulder and gestured towards the superstructure. Harm and Munson both turned to look just as a figure wearing a black wetsuit neared the helicopter.  
  
"I wonder if he's got a suit on under that?" Munson called to Harm just as the figure stepped up to the helicopter and started climbing aboard.  
  
"Webb. What the fuck are you doing here?" Harm shouted over the sound of the rotor blades.  
  
"Coming along for the ride. You didn't really think I'd trust you to this did you Commander? You screw up all my missions." Webb shouted back.  
  
Lieutenant Hadley, the Team's XO opened his mouth to say something only to close it again as Munson held up his hand. "Sir, you are not jump qualified. The risk is too great." Munson shouted as the helo left the deck.  
  
"I appreciate your concern Commander, but the fact of the matter is I am going. If this Navy reject can do it, I can too." Webb gestured towards Rabb.  
  
"I'd be careful about your footing, sir, you might just fall out early." Perez growled.  
  
"Are you threatening me Chief?" Webb shouted back with a tight little smile.  
  
"He's just warning you to be careful, isn't that right Perez?" Munson shot a stern look at his hotheaded Chief Petty Officer.  
  
"Definitely, sir. You can't be too careful Mr. Suit, sir."  
  
"Twenty minutes!" The crew chief called over the headsets.  
  
"Twenty minutes!" Munson called looking at each of his men. "Mr. Webb. There is one man on this chopper I don't know, and don't trust."  
  
"Oh that's okay. Don't hold it against him." Webb smirked at Harm.  
  
"I'm talking about you, sir. Commander Post earned his trident. Where's yours? You are an unknown, sir, and you are putting this mission in jeopardy. It would be in the best interest of the mission for you to remain behind. A 30/30 isn't like jumping off the diving board in your pool back home, sir."  
  
"Chief, any update on the target?" Harm asked the crew chief as he crouched away from where Webb and Munson were having it out. He wouldn't contribute anything to the argument if he lost his temper with the meddling spy.  
  
"She's still moving sou-sou-east sir. She's about five miles from the drop point last we heard."  
  
"Outstanding Chief." Harm slapped the man on the back and moved back towards Munson.  
  
"Five miles off bullseye boss, south-south-east." Harm reported.  
  
"Good. So, Mr. Webb, can we consider putting the mission first?"  
  
"I'm going Commander. Get used to the idea."  
  
Biting back a curse Munson looked over at Perez who was glaring at Webb. "Perez. Give Mr. Webb a lesson on how to land a 30/30. Make it quick...we have ten minutes."  
  
"Aye, sir."  
  
Much to everyone's surprise Webb managed to make the 30/30 jump without breaking his neck. He was a little slow getting up into one of the two zodiacs, and had to be pulled aboard by Perez who'd been appointed Webb's keeper. As soon as everyone was aboard the inflatables the engines were fired up and the craft were steered towards the last known position of Hassa's boat. It wasn't long before the running lights of the larger craft were seen over the open waters. Quickly, the SEALs brought their craft alongside and soon the men were swarming up the sides and securing the area around the rail. With eight men it was easiest to split out into four teams of two, Harm went with Butts, and Webb with Perez. The teams were to locate Hassa, radio in when they had him, and meet back at the boarding point. Ideally they would be in and out without anyone being the wiser and then Harm would get everyone out on the chopper sitting on the deck.  
  
Webb and Perez were the first team below decks, moving quickly but carefully. Perez even began to admit to himself that Webb could move quietly when he wanted to.  
  
As Harm and Butts were making their way to the ladder well leading below decks, they heard the sounds of a struggle coming from immediately below them. Carefully they made their way down the ladder well to see Perez subdue an armed guard of some sort.  
  
Looking up at the two newly arrived SEALs, Perez waved towards a door just down the passageway and motioned that he was going to take a look. Harm nodded and signaled down the passageway in the other direction leading Butts off to continue their search.  
  
Silently opening the door to the third room, Harm heard the earpiece of his radio crackle slightly. "We've got him." Perez said softly.  
  
"Everyone back to the rail." Munson's order came swiftly in response to Perez's announcement.  
  
"Two moving out." Hadley's voice announced.  
  
"Three movi...what the fuck are you..." Perez's voice was interrupted by a single silenced shot heard clearly over the radio.  
  
"Two, report." Munson ordered. When Perez didn't answer Munson continued "Seven, are you in position to get to Two?"  
  
"Affirmative." Harm answered and then set off down the passage to where he'd last seen Perez. "Eight, what's your status?"  
  
Harm waited a moment for Webb to answer, and when he didn't hear anything he repeated the question. Still no answer. A moment later Harm saw the wetsuited legs of someone sticking out from the doorway into a cabin. Cautiously he advanced to where the man was laying with his weapon raised. Motioning Butts to cover him Harm entered the room quickly and ensured that it was empty. "Clear." He announced to Butts. Looking down at the figure he was standing over he saw Perez and a single wound bleeding out of his chest. "Three is down. Repeat three is down." Harm announced over the radio as he checked for a pulse.  
  
"Pulse?" Butts asked.  
  
"Weak." Harm answered. Suddenly Perez reached up and grabbed Harm's wrist. "Take it easy sailor. We're going to get you out of here." Harm tried to reassure the man.  
  
"Webb..." Perez whispered.  
  
"He's not here Perez. He must have gone after your shooter." Harm said softly.  
  
"Shouldn't have left his man." Butts said with disgust. Harm grabbed up Perez's weapon and handed it to Butts before picking up a shirt laying on the floor and pressing it against Perez's wound. Reaching down he tired to lift the man to his shoulder carefully, knowing no matter what he did the man would be in pain.  
  
"One, have the medkit standing by. We're on our way up." Harm said over the radio.  
  
"Check in." Munson ordered.  
  
"Two."  
  
"Four."  
  
"Five."  
  
"Six"  
  
"Seven." Harm said as he approached the stairwell.  
  
Silence. Where the hell was Webb? And where the hell had the target gone? Perez had said that they had him. When Harm reached the rail the rest of the team had already gathered and the team medic, a Petty Officer named Gunther, had the kit ready for Perez. Once Harm lowered him to the deck Gunther checked his vitals and shook his head. "He's gone skipper." Gunther said with a glance at Munson.  
  
"Fuck." Munson said quietly. "Where's Webb?"  
  
"He wasn't with Perez when we got there. My guess is that he went after the shooter." Harm answered.  
  
"And the target?"  
  
"Gone as well."  
  
"Fuck!" Munson said a little louder. Harm agreed with him completely. This whole mission was turning into a cluster fuck. "Alright, the rest of you find those two. Post, get that chopper ready to fly. I'll get Perez on board."  
  
Quickly the rest of the team scattered once more to search the ship while Harm climbed on board the chopper and ran through a preflight checklist. Just as he was finishing up Munson stepped into the cockpit and sat down in the co-pilot's seat. "How well do you know Webb?"  
  
"Too well."  
  
"Would he have gone after the shooter?" Munson asked after a moment's thought.  
  
"Probably." Harm answered truthfully. "He's very dedicated to his missions. If the shooter was Hassa, Webb would have gone after him."  
  
"Never should have let him come." Munson chastised himself.  
  
"One, this is two. I'm in the engine room, and I have nothing." Hadley announced over the radio.  
  
"Does this seem too easy to you?" Harm asked with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"I'm thinking the same thing. Where are all the bodyguards? Where is all the crew? I only saw a couple of men when I made my sweep."  
  
"We've been set up." Harm shook his head, swearing quietly under his breath.  
  
"Looks that way. What's that?" Munson pointed out of the windshield to the point where they had boarded the ship. From the helicopter they could barely see it.  
  
"What's what?"  
  
"There...a figure..."  
  
"Going over the side!"  
  
"Anyone who can, get to the rail NOW!" Munson called over the radio as he stumbled back into the crew bay of the chopper. Both he and Harm hit the deck and ran over to the rail. As they got close they heard a low humming noise from over the side. Instantly Harm recognized it as the sound of one of the zodiacs motors. At the rail they saw one of the zodiacs pulling away from the ship rapidly with two figures on board; one dressed in light colored clothing, one in black.  
  
The sound of softly padding feet announced the arrival of the rest of the team. As one, all six of them watched the two people drift off in the zodiac.  
  
"Everyone aboard the chopper!" Munson called. "Hadley, you and Butts will drop and subdue!"  
  
Quickly the team climbed aboard the chopper and Harm did his best to get it off the deck as fast as he could. At first the controls fought him as he'd never flown anything as big as a Sea King, but soon he had control of the bird and was heading in the direction they'd seen the zodiac heading. Munson took the co-pilot's seat again and fired up the powerful search light mounted on the nose of the bird. Flying low and fast, Harm quickly saw the zodiac ahead, making the best time it could and changing direction often. Bringing the bird overhead, Harm tried to hold it steady while Hadley and Butts dropped from the chopper into the water. Gunther sat in the door firing his weapon around the zodiac.  
  
Only a few minutes had passed before Hadley was radioing in. "One, this is two. We have taken control of the craft. The target is not on board, repeat the target is not on board."  
  
"Who the hell are they then?"  
  
"Crew apparently."  
  
"Damn it. Get back on board. Gunther, see if you can get the ladder over the side for them."  
  
"Now what?" Munson asked looking over at Harm.  
  
"Now we have a mystery to solve." Harm answered with a frown.  
  
"Take her back home, Commander." Munson ordered after a second's thought.  
  
_ A/N: Wow. Tense isn't it? Would you want to be those SEALs right now? I sure wouldn't. Well, I thought I'd break up the tension a little with some news. I have been approached by a wonderful, talented lady with a request to let her write Mac's POV of You Can't Live in the Past. Right now she's working on finishing one of her own stories, but once that is complete shes informed me she will start on Mac's POV. Please...settle down in back there. Just a word of warning in closing: I will not give a timeline as to when she'll have the story done or start posting. But rest assured it is coming soon to a computer monitor near you!_  



	28. Chapter 27

A/N Just wanted to apologize to those who've been waiting patiently. I know this took a bit longer than normal to get posted, but unfortunately things haven't been as easy going as usual lately. I can however promise that you won't have to wait nearly as long for the next chapter.

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 27_

Mac wandered into the break room to see if she could round up a good stiff cup of coffee to start her morning. Seeing the empty pot staring back at her, she felt both elated and disappointed at the same time. She was elated that she'd be able to make some good old fashioned Marine grade coffee, disappointed that she would have wait for it to brew. With a sigh she leaned back against the counter and waited for the coffee.

"Is that stuff going to be safe for human consumption?" A deep voice asked a few moments later.

"Sturgis. Welcome back." Mac gave a little half smile to her colleague. "When did you get in?"

"Late last night." Sturgis replied trying not to let his curiosity show.

"What's up Sturgis?" Mac asked as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "You've got that look on your face again."

"What look?" Sturgis asked trying to sound innocent.

"The one that says you know something but you don't want to say anything. So spill."

"Have you heard from Harm lately?" Sturgis asked in response. He knew he shouldn't say anything about running into Harm while he was on the Pat, but Harm suddenly showing up playing SEAL had him worried.

"He left on an op almost a week ago." Mac answered evasively. No one at the office knew yet that she'd forced herself into Harm's life again. "Why?" she added suspiciously.

"No reason." Sturgis poured himself a cup of the thick black sludge Mac called coffee.

"Then you wouldn't have said anything. You know something, don't you Sturgis?"

"Yes." Sturgis answered softly as he turned to leave only to come to a stop as Coates entered the break room.

"Sir, ma'am, the Admiral would like to see you immediately." Coates said respectfully.

"Thanks Jen." Mac said with a little smile at the young Petty Officer.

"Enter!" The Admiral barked when Mac and Sturgis knocked on his door a few minutes later.

"Welcome back Commander. How was the trip out to the Pat?" Admiral Chegwidden said, motioning for his two senior attorneys to sit down.

"Interesting, to say the least, sir." Sturgis answered. Mac saw that look on his face again; Sturgis definitely knew something he wasn't sharing.

"A routine mishap investigation called 'interesting'? Are you feeling alright Commander?" The Admiral asked with an incredulous look.

"Ah, the investigation wasn't exactly interesting, sir. But there was a SEAL team aboard getting ready for an op."

"Well. That brings us right to the point. Colonel, you'll be heading out to the Patrick Henry this afternoon, Coates will have your travel arrangements."

"Yes, sir." Mac waited for the Admiral to continue with the details.

"Two days ago the SEALs the Commander just mentioned took part in a mission to apprehend a known arms dealer who is funding some terrorist groups in Iraq. The mission went south and one of the SEALs died. Single shot to the chest from close range is the cause of death. Shipboard JAG is in over his head." The Admiral said looking down at the file on his desk. "No one is saying how exactly that wound happened, and I want you to find out why Colonel. If someone screwed the pooch, I want their ass in a sling, do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir." Mac answered crisply.

"Hand off any of your urgent cases to the Commander and then secure for the day." The Admiral dismissed his two officers.

Twenty minutes later Mac was knocking on Sturgis' door with two files in hand. "Hey. Got two winners for you. The Summers assault, and the Granger article 32." She said with a smile when Sturgis looked up. He still had that look in his eyes, like he wanted to tell her something. "Sturgis? You ok?"

"I'm fine. Thanks for the files." Sturgis gestured for Mac to put the files on his desk.

"What aren't you telling me Sturgis?"

Sturgis looked out the window in thought. He _knew_ he shouldn't say anything, but with Mac going out to the carrier she needed to be warned before she left, especially with Harm being a "member" of the unit she was going to investigate. "You said Harm left on a mission about a week ago?" Sturgis began hesitantly.

"Yeah. Didn't say where, I didn't ask."

"The Gulf of Sidra." Sturgis said quietly.

"What about it?"

"It's where the Pat is currently deployed."

"And?" Mac prompted.

"Look, I know I'm not supposed to say anything, but you need to know before you go out there. You need to know what to expect." Sturgis knew he was reaching in an attempt to justify his actions.

"Go on."

"Harm's on the Pat. I ran into him the day I left. He's with the SEALs Mac." Sturgis ran a hand over the back of his head in frustration. He hated being a bearer of tales.

"Okay." Mac said slowly.

"You don't seem shocked." Sturgis was mildly surprised.

"Sturgis, don't take this the wrong way, but you haven't really seen what's happening with Harm. Hell, none of us were. I wouldn't be surprised if he showed up here masquerading as the new Chief of Naval Operations if it suited the CIA's agenda." Mac said with a slight shrug. At least if he was on a carrier she knew he wouldn't be drinking.

"Well, that's it then." Strugis stood up slowly. "Thanks for the cases, I'll try to have them wrapped up by the time you get back."

"Thanks. I'll see you when I get back then." Mac said with a strained little smile. "And Sturgis?"

"Yeah?"

"I appreciate you warning me about Harm. I don't think I would have liked running into him during the investigation without knowing he was there."

An hour later Mac was back in her car on her way to the airport to catch the flight that would eventually lead her out to the carrier, and Harm. What the hell was he doing with a SEAL team? And what the hell did he have to do with the mission that went south? Was it his mission? Of course it was, it had to be, otherwise why would he be out there? As the questions rattled around her head Mac was becoming more and more agitated,and worried. Something had gone wrong with the mission and someone had died. Mac's whirling mind froze. The Admiral hadn't said who died on the mission, simply that a SEAL was dead. No, it wouldn't be him, it couldn't be him. She'd know, wouldn't she? She'd be able to feel if Harm was dead, she was certain of it.


	29. Chapter 28

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 28_

Mac stood and did her best to stretch out all of the kinks and knots in her back. Between the flight out to the Gulf of Sidra and the Cod that brought her out to the carrier her body had taken a beating. And on top of that she had been told in no uncertain terms by the Captain that she was expected to begin and end her investigation as soon as humanly possible, would it be alright if he booked her a seat on the morning Cod back to the mainland? She knew that's just the way Captain Ingles operated, and like most officers in the Navy he was never happy to see a JAG come around, but he'd always seemed happier to see them when Harm had been part of the package. Maybe not happy, but it just seemed like he'd never pushed the way he did when she'd gotten on board.

Picking up the incident report Mac gave it yet another read through. She couldn't help the tears that had threatened to well up the first time she'd read that it wasn't Harm that had died. She knew it was unfair to the poor boy that'd been killed for her to feel the rush of relief, but she didn't care. It wasn't Harm and that was what she'd feared ever since Sturgis had told her that Harm was with the team she was investigating. A knock at the hatch broke her train of thought and she took a moment to pull herself together and adopt the calm, efficient mask of the Marine lawyer.

"Enter."

A tall slender man stepped through the hatch. Taking in the commander's bars Mac assumed that this was the leader of the SEAL team.

"Commander Munson. Thank you for coming."

"Don't have much choice when a JAG asks to see you." Munson said with a slight smile.

"There is always that." Mac responded to the man's relaxed attitude. At least he wasn't tense and defensive, yet. "I know you want to get this over and done with Commander, and please, believe me, so do I. Apparently someone wants answers as to why your man is dead. Care to give me that answer?"

"Post is probably the man you'll want to talk to next then Colonel. He's the one who found the body."

"Why don't you walk me through the mission?"

"Can't tell you a whole lot ma'am, it was a classified operation. What I can tell you is this; we'd split into two man teams to search the ship for our objective. Perez and the spook were the ones to locate it..."

"The spook?" Mac prompted slightly confused.

"Some guy named Webb. Apparently he was behind this op, and at the last minute he decided to join us on the ground when our insertion was changed from a HALO to a 30/30." Munson grimaced at the memory.

Mac tried to mask her confusion and surprise at hearing Clayton Webb's name. "Go on."

"Anyway, Perez radioed that he and the spook had found the target, but there was gunfire right after the transmission. Post's team was the closest and he moved in. When he got there Perez was the only one in the room apparently. Post did his best to stabilize Perez and then moved him up onto the deck where our corpsman did his best, but Perez was dead."

"Who is Post?" Mac asked, even though she recognized the name as one Harm had used in their distant past.

"Lieutenant Commander Greg Post. Normally he's with Two, but he'd been sent to us for this mission because he's a qualified pilot and our mission profile called for us to extract via a helicopter located on the target vessel."

"Is it normal for members to switch between SEAL teams?"  
  
"Not normally, no. But sometimes we bring in outsiders who possess certain skills necessary for the completion of a mission. In this case we didn't have to bring in an outsider, just had to get Two to lend us Greg. Didn't have to spend any extra time training him for the insertion or the mission, he's had it all before."

"Alright. What happened after Perez died?"

"With all due respect, ma'am. Your investigation is into the nature of Chief Perez's death, not into our mission. We've covered everything up until Perez died."

"Commander, I have your after action report." Mac reminded the SEAL holding up the folder with the report in it. "I know what happened next; I just wanted to hear it in your own words."

"You've got my words ma'am, right there in your hand." Munson said stiffly.

"You might have forgotten something." Mac prompted with a little more force.

"It's all in the report, ma'am."

"Well then you won't mind telling it to me again Commander. As you said you don't have much of a choice when it comes to dealing with a JAG." Mac said crisply, her anger starting to show.

"Yes ma'am." Munson finally said grudgingly. "Post told me that if the target had shot Perez, it was possible that the spook went after him. I sent the men back out to search the ship for sign of the spook or the target while Post and I loaded Perez onto the chopper and got ready for our extraction. While the teams were searching I spotted something over by where we inserted. When we went to investigate there were two people escaping in one of our zodiacs."

"What happened next?"

"We recalled the men, got airborne, caught up to the escaping men and my XO and one of the others dropped in on them. Turns out they were just a couple of escaping crewmen. We retrieved our boys and returned to the ship. I scrubbed the mission at that point."

"Kind of late to scrub the mission wasn't it?"

"I made the call ma'am. Things had gone sour, the target was obviously gone and there was nothing we could do."

"What about Mr. Webb?" Mac asked with barely contained emotion. Even though she didn't particularly like him at the moment, she still knew the man, and if he was wounded, missing or dead she would like to know.

Munson just shook his head slightly. "Not sure ma'am. He wasn't on board the ship, that we were pretty sure of."

"Pretty sure of? Didn't you think you'd better be sure?"

"Ma'am, he wasn't responding to radio hails and we searched the ship, twice, before we went after the two escaping crewmen." Munson bit off with indignation clear in his voice. "Webb wasn't on that ship any longer."

"What aren't you telling me Commander?" Mac had a gut feeling the SEAL was hiding something.

"Told you everything ma'am. Just like it is in my report." Munson said stiffly as he stood up and came to attention. "If that will be all Colonel, I have a letter to finish writing."

"That will be all Commander. Please send me Commander Post." Mac struggled to keep her emotions in check as she gave the order.

Ten minutes later she jumped slightly at the heavy bang on her hatch. "Enter!" she called out.

Harm stepped into the room and dropped the folder he was carrying on the table she was using as a desk before coming stiffly to attention. "Lieutenant Commander Post reporting as ordered ma'am."

"Sorry they had to bust you a rank." Mac tried lamely to joke.

"Not sure what you're referring to ma'am." Harm answered tersely.

"Harm, its me. Drop the act. And what the hell is going on here? The Admiral is tied in knots about this SEAL dying and no one knowing how or why."

"You should read that then." Harm said nodding towards the folder he'd tossed on the table.

"What is it?" Mac picked up the indicated folder and opened it up.

"Autopsy report for Chief Perez." Harm said as Mac read that for herself. "Died of a single gunshot wound, close range, 9mm. The Master at Arms is taking a look at the details to see if he can determine anything else. Until the information and slug get sent to a ballistics lab though we won't know much more."

"What happened Harm? What's going on here?"

"We were sent in to extract someone. Webb set the whole thing up, and as usual he screwed it up. This time a good kid died though." Harm struggled to control his anger.

"Why did he go on the mission?"

"I have no fucking clue." Harm felt his frustration at the situation threaten to overwhelm his anger. "He was just here when I showed up; last I heard he'd be running the op from Langley. Just as we were boarding the chopper out the morning of the op Webb comes running out in a wetsuit insisting on joining us."

Mac watched as Harm slumped into the chair in front of the table. She could tell he was angry, frustrated and confused. Ignoring her better judgment she reached out and squeezed his shoulder. "I'm sorry Harm."

"The kid didn't have to die." Harm said with emotion thick in his voice.

"What do you think happened?" Mac sat down on the edge of the table nearest Harm.

"Mac.." Harm started, obviously trying to figure out what he was going to say. Mac just waited for him to continue, knowing that he would when he was ready. "I think Webb shot Perez." He finished in a rush.


	30. Chapter 29

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 29_

Mac was shocked to the core. There was no way she had just heard what she thought she'd just heard. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" she asked, disbelief written all over her face.

"Look Mac, I know what it sounds like. I know you're not going to believe me, but I think Webb shot Perez." Harm said with a little shake of his head. There was a time when she would have at least heard him out.

That was what she thought she'd heard. He had said it. He thought Webb was a murderer, a traitor. It wasn't possible. "Harm, it's not that I don't believe you. It's just not...not possible." Mac stuttered as she began to pace the small steel room. "You've known him as long as I have; you know something like this isn't possible."

"Mac, it is possible," Harm said with a hint of force. "You haven't been working with him lately. He's not the same man; not the same man we met out at Red Rock, not the same man who sent us into that Embassy. Mac, he's changed. Paraguay, Iraq, it all changed him."

Stopping her pacing Mac glared at Harm. "No. It can't be." She tried again.

"Would you look at the evidence Mac, before you dismiss it out of hand? For God's sake, you're a lawyer."

"And you used to be a lawyer. But then again, I should have known you'd go off making wild accusations. What evidence?"

"Come on, you know he's changed since Paraguay. He's colder, more distant, keeps thinking he lost something with his off the reservation stunt down south and he keeps trying to get it back. I don't know what it is, but he's obsessed with it. Hell, he's obsessed with you!"

"With me? You're joking, right? We went out a couple times, but you know how I feel about him. You still haven't given me anything I could use as evidence," Mac said in a huff as she started to pace again.

Harm stared at Mac incredulously. She just couldn't get past her belief that he was wrong. Taking a deep breath he struggled to remain impassive, to wear the mask of an officer of the USN. He failed. "For Christ's sake, Mac!" he said louder than he meant to. That brought her pacing to a halt.

"Harm," Mac said quickly in a warning tone of voice as she held up her hand to try and stop the tide of his emotions. "Hold on..."

"No, you hold on MacKenzie," Harm thundered. "You weren't there. I don't care if you are fucking him on the side, I think Webb's guilty."

Harm's head rocked back as Mac's palm impacted his cheek. "Screw you Rabb!" Mac hissed vehemently.

"Look, I know he's your boyfriend. Fine. But that doesn't mean he didn't shoot Perez. If it wasn't him, then who the hell was it? Close range, nine millimeter shot. Perez wouldn't let someone he didn't trust get that close, he was a fucking SEAL."

"He's not my boyfriend. And that has nothing to do with the case." Mac snarled.

"Look, Mac, all the evidence points to Webb, and don't try to tell me my personal feelings are clouding my judgement. From where I'm sitting I could say the same about you. I know he's your boyfriend. Fine, but that doesn't..mean he didn't shoot Perez. If it wasn't Webb, then who the hell was it? Close range, nine millimeter shot. Perez wouldn't let someone he didn't trust get that close, he was a fucking SEAL."

"He's not my boyfriend....."

"I see, he's just a fuck buddy then - it still doesn't change the facts."

Mac was violently shaking her head. She couldn't believe him. After everything she'd done for him, he still acted like this? "You know what Harm? You've got nothing I need. You're dismissed." She said coldly, resisting the urge to smack him back to DC single handedly.

"You're dismissing me?" Harm snorted in disgust. "You know, I should have known you wouldn't listen to anything bad about Webb. But ask yourself this. If Webb didn't kill Perez, where is he now, why haven't we heard anything at all from him?" And with that Harm was slamming the steel hatch behind him.

Mac paced the small room like a caged animal, raging against the way Harm had treated her. How dare he? What the hell gave him the right? How the hell could she ever think that she was in love with such a self righteous bastard?

A knock at the hatch brought her out of her raging thoughts. "Enter!" she barked.

A petty officer poked his head into the room. "Ma'am, the skipper asked me to bring these down to you." He said hesitantly as he held out a folder.

Mac snatched the folder from the petty officer's hand with a distracted "Dismissed" and flipped the folder open. Ballistics results. Apparently someone in Washington wanted the investigation to go quickly. Mac scanned through the pages until she came to the findings. Perez was killed with a close range shot to the chest. 9mm bullet most likely fired from a Sig handgun.

"It doesn't prove anything." Mac muttered to herself. "Webb's not the only one who uses the Sig." But even that was starting to sound hollow in her ears. What if Harm was right? What if Clayton had killed the SEAL? Why would he do that? What did he hope to gain? She needed to talk to Harm, but she seriously doubted if he'd be receptive right now. She could always get the skipper to order him to talk to her. With a nod Mac decided to go up to the bridge to do just that.

When she arrived she found two large men in suits talking to the Captain. "Ah, Colonel. I was just going to send for you. These two gentlemen would like to speak to you."

"Colonel MacKenzie? I'm Special Agent Tomlinson. This is Agent Petrie. Is there somewhere private we can speak?" the man on the right asked.

"Uh, yeah sure. I've got a temporary office set up below decks. Captain, I was wondering..."

"After you speak to these gentlemen Colonel." The Captain said in an obvious dismissal.

"Aye, sir. Right this way gentlemen." Mac nodded to the two special agents trying to mask her confusion.

As soon as all three were in the small room Mac was using as an office, Agent Tomlinson looked at her intently. "Colonel MacKenzie, we're here investigating the, ah, disappearance of one of our agents. I believe you know him; Clayton Webb."


	31. Chapter 30

A/N Hey guys. Sorry its so short and late, but work has been hell for the last month. First half the department was out of town, now its my turn to live out of a hotel for three weeks while working odd hours. Tends to put a cramp in when I can write, but I'm trying. I have the last three chapters plotted out, just need to fill in the blanks, so I'm hoping to have them up soon.

**A Man Called Ghost **

_Chapter 30_

"Have you spoken to Mr. Webb lately?" Agent Petrie followed on Tomlinson's heals.

"No, why would I have spoken to him?" Mac was mildly confused.

"Colonel, we know that you and Agent Webb had a relationship. Please don't take this the wrong way" Tomlinson started. Obviously he was going to be the 'good cop'. "but, when we arrived on board and found you already here, we wondered if you had perhaps had contact from Agent Webb before you left the States?"

"No, why would I have? I haven't spoken with Webb in...it must be months now." Mac said with barely controlled anger. How dare they pry into her private life, again.

"Is that a fact Colonel?" Petrie asked with barely masked belligerence.

"Yes, it is a fact." Mac snapped back. "What took you guys so long to get here anyway?"

"What do you mean, Colonel?" Tomlinson asked stepping a little closer. Mac suddenly felt like she'd tipped her hand in a poker game.

"Lets back up a minute, okay guys? What do you mean Webb has disappeared?"

Petrie looked at Tomlinson for just a second, but Mac knew who the senior of the two was now. "What did you mean by taking so long to get here?" Tomlinson asked quietly. "What do you know, Colonel?"

"I don't _know_ anything. Look I just got here today myself. All I know is a SEAL died on an op, and the brass wants it investigated." Mac held up her hands.

"What does that have to do with Webb?"

"Everything." A familiar voice said from the hatch. All three turned quickly to see Harm standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. None of them had heard him quietly slip the hatch open. Standing up straight, Harm stepped into the room without waiting to be invited. "Laurel," he nodded towards Tomlinson. "Hardy," he added with a slight frown at Petrie.

"Ghost. What the hell do you mean everything?" Tomlinson asked insistently.

"You should have come to me first Joe. Leave the Colonel out of this." Mac wasn't sure what surprised her most. That he would still step up to protect her after their latest faux pas, or that he thought she needed protecting.

"We just got here, she came to see the Captain while we were introducing ourselves. Seemed like as good a time as any." Tomlinson shrugged.

"Like the lady said, she only knows about the dead SEAL."

"Look Ghost, all we know is that Webb went missing about the time you were prepping for the op with the boys downstairs. No one knows where he's gone to."

"Well, you boys are a little slow. If you would have been here a few days ago, you could have talked to him yourselves." Harm pulled out a chair and sat down without removing the mildly hostile set to his face.

"Talk to him ourselves? He was here?"

"Yeah. Said he decided to control the op from here." Harm shrugged. "It was his call."

Tomlinson and Petrie both began to swear under their breaths. "Something the matter boys?" Mac asked sweetly. She'd deal with the fall out of her misstep with Harm later.

"How long ago did he leave?" Petrie ignored Mac.

"Well, if you call him shooting a SEAL and taking off with a known arms dealer 'leaving', the day of the op."

"Say what?" Petrie and Tomlinson both said.

Knowing as she said it that she was playing with fire, Mac couldn't help but chime in. "Harm, we don't know for sure that he shot Perez."

Harm shook his head in disgust. She just didn't want to see it. With a sigh he reached up and rubbed his temples. "Do you trust me Colonel?"

"What?" Mac asked incredulously.

"Do you trust me? It's a simple question." Harm prompted, ignoring the other two in the room.

"What does that have to do with this?"

"Everything. Now, do you trust me or not?" Harm pushed, his impatience growing.

"Of course I trust you, Harm." Mac said shaking her head slightly. She was still confused by what he was asking.

"Then fucking show it." Harm snapped. "My gut tells me Webb is behind Perez's death."

"Your gut won't hold up in a court of law." Mac snapped back.

"It won't have to." Tomlinson said quietly.

"What?" Mac and Harm said at the same time.

"What I'm about to tell you can not leave this room. Petrie...go watch the door. Someone might come looking for one of these two."

After the other agent had left the small room to take up a position outside the door Tomlinson continued. "Sorry, Rick doesn't know everything I am about to tell you."

"Typical." Mac muttered.

Tomlinson favoured Mac with a wry little smile before continuing. "We've had Webb under surveillance for some time. Some people in the Agency had begun to Agent Webb shortly after your return from Paraguay."

"How long?" Harm asked.

"A little over a year now. I'm sure you both can guess that Clayton was seriously affected by the ordeal that you all went through. He had the standard once over by a Company shrink, and was allowed to return to duty. However some troublesome patterns began to turn up wherever Clayton was involved. Ghost, I'm sure you noticed that your ops tended to go sour. All of them."

Harm shrugged but didn't say anything.

"Anyway." Tomlinson continued after it became apparent that Harm wasn't going to respond. "People began to notice. After the initial investigation showed that you were not to blame the investigators began to look at others with links to your operations. Agent O'Neil was the next to be scrutinized. She also turned up clean. From there they moved on to Clayton."

"Wait a minute. You investigated Harm?" Mac was shocked and instinctively moved to protect Harm.

"Standard Company procedure when operations turn out badly. I'm sure you understand." Tomlinson said stiffly. Before continuing, he hesitated and looked closely at Harm. Taking a deep breath he continued. "Ghost. Your car accident."

"What about it?"

"There isn't any proof, but we believe Clayton was behind it."

Harm stood up and began to pace the small room running his right hand across the back of his head. "The fucking dreams." He muttered to himself.

"Pardon me?"

"Nothing. Anything else you want to reveal?"

With a sigh Tomlinson looked between Harm and Mac. Bitterly he let loose a short barking laugh. "It looks like Clayton has 'gone off the reservation' as they say."

"What?" Mac was floored for the second time in less than an hour.

"Don't be dense Mac. What he means to say is that Webb's gone rogue." Harm couldn't hold in the bitter laugh.


	32. Chapter 31

A/N Right then. First off, I want to apologize for taking so long between chapters. Real life has been hell lately, and as much as I like to escape it by writing, if I don't pay the bills no one will. And now for the news and information part of our program. In appreciation for all your patience, this chapter is a bit longer than normal AND includes a little goodness for the shippers out there.

A/N 2: For this chapter the rating of the story really applies because of the "shippery goodness", but because of the varied audience age I've removed the really naughty bits. Want to read the uncensored version? Send me an email (located in my profile) and I'll send you the chapter with all the naughty bits intact. BUT you'll have to swear to me on your grandmother's favorite pet rock collection that you're 18 years of age or older.

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 31_

The word furious didn't begin to cover how Harm was feeling. Angry didn't have enough edge. For a week he'd been stewing over everything that happened at sea.

He'd known Webb was jealous of him, he'd known that he and Webb had long ago moved past any point of being able to view each other as sometimes friends again. Hell, he'd even suspected that Webb was trying to get Harm's field status revoked to get back at him by leaving him holding the bag for ops gone south. It was the only reason at the time that Harm could come up with for Webb botching so many operations. There was no way anyone could be that bad at planning ops. At least not anyone with as many years of experience as Clayton Webb had. Now, it was all starting to make horrible sense. This was about more than just ops going bad. Clayton Webb was a traitor.

Making matters worse was the wave of resistance to the idea of Webb being a traitor. Apparently Porter Webb was calling in every political favor she could to protect her son. At Langley the investigation was "in progress" and Harm had not been able to get anything out of anyone.

With a sigh, Harm turned towards his kitchen intent on finding a bottle to take the edge off his anger. It wasn't until he was almost to the cupboards that he remembered Hurricane MacKenzie had cleaned out his stash. With a muttered curse he decided a trip to the liquor store was needed to replenish his supply and went off in search of his keys.

As Harm reached the door he heard a strident knock. Great, just what he needed; company. Ripping the door open, Harm found himself face to face with an irate looking marine Lieutenant Colonel still in her uniform.

Without waiting for an invitation, Mac pushed past Harm. Not even glancing in his direction, she began pacing a tight circle inside his apartment.

"Sure, come on in." Harm muttered angrily in her wake.

"I don't believe it." Mac fumed.

"Well that's not exactly news is it?" Harm asked bitterly.

Mac stopped her pacing and looked at him as though he'd grown three extra heads. "What are you talking about?"

"You and your penchant for disbelief. Not exactly news."

"I repeat, what are you talking about?" Mac was obviously exasperated.

"Why don't you tell me what you don't believe this time?" Harm shook his head in his own growing exasperation.

"My report on the Perez shooting. It's been censored!" Mac was almost shouting at this point.

"Well what the hell did you expect? You chose to report a CIA operative murdered an American soldier, and not just any soldier, no, he popped a SEAL. Of course the Company is going to protect its own." Harm answered without realizing how closely her frustration with the CIA matched his own. "Why the hell are you here?"

"What's your problem?" Mac asked coldly.

"Nothing. Everything is just fucking peachy. Oh, and from what I can tell, your boyfriend has been trying to kill me for the better part of a year." Harm tossed off flippantly.

"He's not now, nor was he ever, my boyfriend." Mac shot back in a chilled tone.

"Right. You were just fuck buddies. I forgot." Harm was long beyond caring what damage he was doing. He was angry and he needed to lash out at someone.

"Go to hell!" Mac spat out.

"You first MacKenzie!" Harm returned, his large frame now towering dangerously close to hers.

"What's your problem Rabb?"

"Where should I start?" Harm snarled grabbing Mac's shoulders, pulling her even closer, their faces only inches apart. "With the most recent problem, or with the oldest? Cause you're damn sure a part of most of them."

"That's funny Rabb. Real funny. I could say the same thing about you." Mac ground out between clenched teeth, pulling her arms to break free of Harm's grip she took a short step back. "Don't touch me!"

"Right, you only like it when Webb touches you." Harm mocked.

This time he didn't see her wind up, nor did he see the delivery. The next thing he knew, Mac slapped him full force, and he was blinking his eyes trying to clear his vision.

"Why the hell did I think you'd be a sympathetic friend?" Mac snorted as she turned to leave. Harm was obviously in a mood for punishment, before he could think about it he'd grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face him.

"You expect me to be sympathetic because they won't let you tell your story about Webb? What the fuck MacKenzie? You wouldn't even believe me when I told you I thought he was guilty. Me! Hell, the man was fucking trying to kill me, and you wouldn't listen to me."

"I know I've said this already tonight, but WHAT are you talking about?" Mac asked, pushing Harm's hands off her again. She could still feel the heat from his earlier touch on her shoulders. She couldn't afford to let herself dwell on the way his hands felt on her.

"Fucking Webb!" Harm stormed. "If it wasn't him taking a shit all over the planning of an op it was him trying to run me off the road!"

"Whoa. Back up Harm. Okay, I know Webb screwed up ops, trust me I know. But what do you mean 'trying to run you off the road'?"

Harm spun away and stalked over to the window staring out at where he'd seen the silver Jaguar parked what seemed like a lifetime ago. "My accident. It wasn't an accident."

"Can you prove it?" Mac asked, her anger slipping away, slowly replaced by exhaustion. Stepping up to stand behind Harm, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. When she felt him tense under her touch, she gave him a gentle squeeze and closed her eyes.

With a snort Harm shook his head violently; unaware that Mac couldn't see the action. "All I've got for proof is my dreams" he said cryptically. 

"Dreams?"

"Nightmares. You were here for them; some of them anyway."

"Tell me about them?"

Harm paused a moment before continuing in a harsh tone. "I'm in a jungle, being chased by a cat. A big silver hunting cat. Every night is was the same, and every night I couldn't run fast enough to get away. Just as it caught me and I felt the claws tear into me, I'd wake up."

"It was always the same?" Mac asked softly.

"Always. Every night since my accident."

"How is this connected to Webb?"

"I can't prove it...and you heard Tomlinson, the Company suspects, but can't prove anything."

"I...I didn't make the connection." Mac admitted. "Why do you suspect him then?"

"Sort of a moot point now, isn't it? He's gone to ground. But it's his car."

"His car?"

"Silver hunting cat. Silver Jaguar. See the connection?"

"It's thin Harm." Mac said cautiously. She didn't want to set him off again. "But then again if the CIA suspects he had something to do with your accident, then maybe there's something to it."

"That's not all. For weeks I saw a silver Jaguar parked outside the building here. I saw it following me everywhere I went. Every time I turned around there it was. Damn it Mac, he was stalking me, studying me." Harm fumed, feeling his anger rise again to new heights. Suddenly he turned, spinning out from under her hand. Roughly he grabbed her arms and shook her slightly. "He wanted me out of the way...away from..." Instead of anger in her eyes he was shocked to see a softened gaze.

"Away from?" Mac prompted softly.

"You." Harm responded distractedly. "He wanted me away from you. I was competition."

"You were never competition." Mac whispered as she gazed up at Harm, standing so close she could feel his hot breath on her cheek.

"Oh." Harm struggled to not show how crushed he was at her words. He'd fought so hard to forget her, to bury his feelings. To hear her words tore at a heart he'd failed to harden.

As Harm's hands dropped from her arms and he began to turn back to the window Mac reached up and gently placed a hand on his cheek. "You misunderstood me. How could you be competition? How could you compete with a man I never wanted? It was you Harm; it's always been you I wanted."

"Oh." Harm blinked in surprise. Suddenly the banality of his answer struck him as his eyes slowly wandered from her eyes down to her lips. He finally surrendered; he couldn't fight himself, he didn't _want_ to fight himself, anymore. Before his heart could beat once more without her he crushed his lips against hers hungrily. Feeling the passion of her response to his kiss left him breathless and he had to break the kiss briefly. Looking into her eyes again he found the tenderness he'd seen moments ago replaced with a burning passion.

Afraid that Harm was backing away, Mac reached up and pulled his head down to bring his lips back to hers. Leaving her fingers locked at the back of Harm's head Mac moaned slightly when she felt his hand slide around behind her and pull the uniform shirt free from her skirt.

Running his hand over the hot, smooth skin of her back Harm felt his knees weaken slightly and locked them before he could embarrass himself by falling at Sarah Mackenzie's feet. Moaning against her lips he pulled his hand free of her blouse and bent his knees slightly to reach both arms around her lifting her into his arms.

As Mac felt her feet leave the floor she broke off the impassioned kiss with a little "Oh" of surprise. Looking up into Harm's burning eyes though, she smiled and began to trail kisses down the side of his jaw and along his neck.

Striding across his apartment purposefully Harm struggled to keep his mind on where he was going instead of losing himself in the feel of Mac's lips upon his skin. After what seemed like an eternity he gently placed her upon the rumpled sheets of his bed. Gazing down at her as she looked up at him, Harm was struck once more by how beautiful she was.

"Come here." Mac breathed sensually. Harm dropped to the bed beside her as she turned slightly and wrapped her arms around him. Urgently she sought to quell the longing inside her and pulled his lips back to hers.

"Sarah, I don't think I can be gentle." Harm groaned against her lips. "I've wanted you for so long."

"You won't break me." Mac answered without a moment's hesitation. He wasn't the only one who'd wanted this.

With that, they both surrendered to the passions that had been building in them. Later as Mac lay half asleep wrapped in Harm's arms she heard him whisper "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Mac asked with panic gripping her heart. _Did he regret what they'd done? Did he think it was a mistake?_

"I wanted to be more gentle with you." Harm admitted. He didn't even consider how much that went against the way people looked at him now, he just knew that for Sarah he wanted to give her the perfect night, and instead he'd taken her like an animal in heat.

"And you will be." Mac answered softly. "I'm not going anywhere sailor." Slowly she closed her eyes and reveled in the feeling of his arms around her. "And I'm not letting you go this time either."

Between the passionate sex that they'd just engaged in and the feeling of Harm's arms wrapped around her, Mac let herself drift off to sleep before Harm had a chance to respond to her declaration. Harm would spend another hour wrestling with his fears before he would allow himself to drift off beside her. He was afraid that he would wake up and she would be gone, the night just another hopeless dream chased away by the harsh morning's light.


	33. Chapter 32

A/N Right then. Hope you're not all falling over with coronaries, but here's the next chapter. Its sort of a good news/bad news thing. The good news will be self evident. The bad news...there's one chapter to go. The last few loose threads will be tied up in the Epilogue.

A/N 2: I just want to take a moment to thank two special people who've really helped with getting this story out. You both know who you are, and you both know you're incredibly special I hope.  
  
**A Man Called Ghost**

_Chapter 32_

The harsh ringing of the phone ripped Harm from the womb of sleep. Groggily he stretched over and fumbled it off the night table.

"Wassit?" he mumbled into the mouthpiece after finally stabbing the talk button.

"Please verify" a crisp voice answered his unintelligible mumbling.

"Rabb, Charlie Charlie One Seven Niner" Harm answered, immediately awake. It wasn't often that he received calls from the office at home before he was fully awake.

"Agent Rabb, the time is oh-seven-fifteen. Please report in one hour" the cool voice commanded and then there was a click.

As he replaced the phone on his night table Harm noticed he was alone in bed. Slowly curling the hand that had held the phone into a fist Harm flopped back down onto the sheets. Staring blankly up at the ceiling he choked back the bitter laugh he felt rising inside him. It had been a dream; a godforsaken, hopeless dream. He should have known better.

"Breakfast's almost ready sleepy head." Mac said cheerfully as she climbed the short steps to the bedroom area. "Who was on the phone?"

It was almost a full minute before Harm remembered he needed to answer her question. For the life of him all he could do was look at her standing there in one of his overly large t-shirts and a pair of his boxers. All of the hopelessness that had flooded into him when he found himself alone was washed away at the sight of her.

"Harm? Who was on the phone?" Mac prompted as she sat down on the bed next to him and reached out to brush his hair away from his forehead.

"I've got to go into work." Harm reveled in the feel of her fingers caressing his skin. Which brought back memories of the night before. Which then prompted a noticeable reaction.

With a little laugh Mac kissed Harm lightly on the lips. "Not right now sailor. You've got to get in to work. And so do I" she nodded towards where her freshly ironed uniform was hanging next to his closet. "Grab a shower and I'll have breakfast ready for you when you're done."

"Isn't it my job to make you breakfast?" Harm asked with a wicked grin.

"You can make it tomorrow" Mac tossed over her shoulder walking back to the kitchen.

Fifteen minutes later Harm walked down to the kitchen toweling his hair dry clad only in a pair of jeans. Dropping a quick kiss on Mac's lips he sat down to the toast and coffee she'd set out for him. Two hard boiled eggs soon joined the quick breakfast.

"So, what's on your plate tonight?" Mac asked as he tore into his toast and eggs.

"Not sure. I'll know more when I find out what they want to see me about at the office." Harm answered after swallowing a mouthful. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh I don't know." Mac said airily. "I was thinking you could cook me dinner, and I could provide the...dessert" she added with a sexy little smile.

Harm tried not to choke on the food he'd just put into his mouth. He had to admit that he liked it when she made plans. "I'll call you at the office and let you know what they want at work. Speaking of which, I'm going to be late" Harm realized. Hastily standing up he rushed up to his room to grab a button up shirt and a jacket. When he came back down doing up the buttons of his shirt, he saw Mac cleaning away the remains of breakfast. Pulling on his jacket he grabbed his keys from the counter and stopped to stare at her.

"What?" she asked with a smile when she felt his eyes on her.

"You."

"What about me?"

"Just...you. I'll talk to you tonight?"

"We've got plans, don't we?" Mac asked lowly as she stepped up and pulled his head down for a deep kiss.

"Yes, yes we do." Harm agreed, reluctantly stepping away from her to slip on a pair of shoes. "I'll see you tonight then. Just lock up when you leave."

"Harm?" Mac called as he opened the door to leave.

"Yeah?"

"I...I'll see you tonight" Mac cursed herself as she hesitated. Forcing a smile, she watched Harm smile back and close the door with a little wave.

"Damn it Mackenzie, can't you just say it?" she muttered to herself as she left the kitchen to finish getting ready for the day.

"Agent Rabb, thank you for coming in with little notice." Director Kershaw said politely "Please, be seated. The others who are joining us for this meeting will be here shortly."

Anytime Kershaw was "polite" Harm's survival instinct fired up. Of course that was usually before an op, and it usually involved Webb. This time Webb wasn't anywhere in sight. Settling himself into one of the seats around the conference table, the door opened to admit the Secretary of the Navy and two other men Harm didn't recognize.

"Ah. Secretary Sheffield, gentlemen. Welcome."

"Sorry we're late Harrison" one of the two men Harm didn't recognize said lightly as he took a seat at the table.

"Director Kershaw. Commander...I mean Agent Rabb. It's good to see you again son." Secretary Sheffield said with a nod in Harm's direction.

"Mr. Secretary." Harm returned a little coolly. While the man hadn't had anything to do directly with his "retirement" from the Navy, Harm was still wary around Navy personnel, especially after the latest CIA-Navy fiasco. "Congratulations on not being named a war criminal."

"Secretary Sheffield you obviously already know. These other two gentlemen are Directors Granger and Newton from the FBI and the NSA" Kershaw introduced. "Gentlemen, Agent Rabb."

"A pleasure to meet you Harm. May I call you Harm? We've enjoyed hearing of some of your more colorful exploits." Director Granger said with a tight little smile. "You are a man of singular talents."

"Thank you Director, but the truth is I got lucky" Harm responded to the praise with his survival instincts now at full alert. Something was up, and it didn't take a genius to figure out that it wasn't good with the Directors of the three intelligence agencies and an Armed Forces Secretary in the same room.

"Don't be modest Harm. You _are _a man of singular talents" Director Kershaw gushed.

"Sir, if I may be direct, what's going on here?" Harm asked tersely. "Is this about Webb?" Something about this whole situation didn't sit right.

"Clayton? No, not at all" Kershaw answered with a tight little laugh. "This is all about you my boy."

"Me?" Harm tried to mask his unease.

"Indeed. You see Harm, as you more than anyone else is aware, terrorism is on the rise. And we are at war with the terrorists. But we're not doing very well on the ground in this war. Every day we lose more and more young men and women in places like Iraq, and this is becoming more and more unacceptable to the administration" Kershaw stood as he began his speech. "It has been decided that we are in need of a special type of....warrior if you will. A group of men and women who can operate as both soldier and intelligence agent."

"Excuse me?" Harm wasn't sure he understood what Kershaw was saying.

"We've been trying to fight this war on the ground and in the shadows, but we've been doing each part separately. And let's be honest gentlemen. We've been failing and failing miserably." Secretary Sheffield spoke up. "Something new is needed Harm. And that's where you come in."

"Me?" warning bells were now ringing loud and clearly in Harm's head.

"Yes you, Harm." Kershaw came around the table to stand beside Harm. "I'm sorry Harm, but I'm going to have to let you go. Turn in your keycard when you leave the building."

"What?" Harm asked flabbergasted.

"It's alright Harm. He's doing that at my request. It allows me to offer you this." Secretary Sheffield said sliding a folded piece of paper across the table.

Picking up the paper warily Harm opened it and scanned the contents. "I don't suppose I have time to think about this?"

"We need to know your answer by 2200 tonight at the latest." Sheffield answered.

Mac paused when she reached the door to Harm's apartment. It was slightly ajar and there were no lights coming from inside. She hadn't heard from him all day, only a hurried message on her voicemail asking her to come over right after work. "Harm?" she called warily as she pushed on the door opening it slightly.

"In here" came the response.

"What's wrong Harm? What happened?" Mac asked as she turned on the lights and found Harm sitting on the couch staring out at nothing.

"I got turfed." Harm answered absently as Mac sat down beside him and started rubbing his shoulders with one hand.

"What?" Mac asked incredulously.

"The CIA. I got fired. But then I got a job offer." Harm nodded at a piece of a paper sitting on the coffee table.

Picking up the paper Mac opened it up and scanned over the contents. "But this means..."

"I'd be back in the Navy." Harm whispered. As much as he'd hid it, as much as he'd denied it, it was where he always wanted to be.

"And a Captain!" Mac added with shock still evident in her voice. "But how?"

"They want me to lead a multi-agency task force. Soldier-spies to fight the battles in the war against terrorism. FBI, CIA, NSA, all branches of the military. Even people drawn from police forces around the country who fit the profile."

Mac hesitated for a moment and then asked "Are you going to do it?"

Reaching up Harm rubbed a hand through his hair. He'd need to get a hair cut in the morning. "I think I am. But there's one thing I need to consider before I call."

"What's that?"

"Do you want me to take it?" Harm struggled for a moment before he asked her this question. It had been so long since he'd thought about anyone else other than himself. But now there was no turning back.

Mac saw instantly how much it cost him to ask her opinion. With a small smile she laid her head on his shoulder. "If it's what you want to do Harm, then I'm behind you all the way."

Reaching out Harm picked up the cordless. Thumbing the talk button he quickly dialed a number he never thought he'd have to call again. "Secretary Sheffield, please. It's Harmon Rabb."

"Good evening Mr. Secretary. I'm sorry to leave the call for so late. Yes, sir. I'm your man, sir. Very good, sir. I'll be there." Harm silently placed the phone back on the table and leaned back in the couch wondering where his life was going to lead him now.

After a couple minutes of sitting quietly Mac raised her head and looked up at the man next to her. "Does this mean I can call you Captain in bed?"


	34. Epilogue

**A Man Called Ghost**

_Epilogue_

As he sipped the strong Turkish coffee the man looked down at the open paper before him. It really was a pain to get the Washington Post here, but he'd found that with a little money, anything was possible. And really, there wasn't anything better than the Post to provide a view of the political situation in the States. One particular article jumped out at him as he was scanning down the second page.

"New Intelligence Group Approved: Naval Captain Harmon Rabb Jr. to act as Director"

Carefully setting down the delicate coffee cup, the man quickly scanned through the article. There really wasn't a lot beyond what the headline gave. Most of it was background information on the officer named to act as Director for the new group. And from what the man knew of the Captain's past, most of it was fairly accurate, though highly polished. One thing puzzled him though. When had Rabb gone back to the Navy? Presumably the promotion had come with the posting.

With the article was a recent photo taken of Rabb at what appeared to be his promotion ceremony. Standing off to one side and beaming up at him predictably was the lovely Sarah MacKenzie. Now that was one thing he regretted; he wished he'd been able to make her see how much more than Rabb he really did love her. Oh well, the chance would come again he was certain.

A noise at the door of the café tore his attention from the paper just as he was reaching a boiling point. When he looked up he saw one of the idiots he'd hired to act as a bodyguard accosting a slight bespectacled man. Folding his paper the man waved to his bodyguard impatiently to let the other man through. From the intelligence his people had gathered about this particular gentleman, he was expecting to be asked to get "involved" in the elections of a small African nation. Not exactly what he'd had in mind when he decided to go into business for himself, but everyone has to start somewhere.

He reached up and adjusted his glasses as the slightly built man stopped in front of the table where he was seated. "I'm looking for someone called La Arana to do some work for me."

"Yes, I'm La Arana." Clayton Webb said with a tight little smile.

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Author's Note

And there it is. A Man Called Ghost in its entirety, including shippery goodness and my first attempt at really naughty bits.

I admit this last bit is very short, however there really was only one thing to tie up (we'd already made Harm and Mac fight, talk (sort of) and "make up"). What was everyone's favorite traitor doing?

Now for the part where I talk about the future. Well one day I hope to marry a good woman and have lots of children....oh wait. Wrong future. Writing future. I do have a sequel in mind for Ghost, but it is not my main project right now unfortunately. Currently I'm helping two wonderful women with another fanfic, but more importantly, in the near future I'm going to be focusing on the novel I'm writing (I really really want to get published so I can quit my job and write all day long!) and getting out a website that I've been putting off too long (sorry ladies). There will be more fanfic from me in future, just not in the near future. Thank you for understanding. :-)

Now for the thanks. To each and every one of you a great BIG Canadian "THANK YOU!" It's a poutine flavoured thank you actually. Now you all know my secret...I'm nuts. ;-) I guess I fit right in here. (for those of you unsure as to what poutine is or what it tastes like shame on you!)


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